Tears falling in darkness: year one
by evil minded
Summary: AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now? Accompany them on their way through the first year at Hogwarts and see what will come their way ... thanks for reading ...
1. prologue

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Uhm ... ok ... I have to admit ... English is not my language by birth ... so ... please do not kill me while reading ... neither for the bad English I use, nor for what I am writing ... I do not have much experience in Harry Potter stories ... it is my first one, I have to admit ...

**Added Note:**

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains child abuse

Child-abuse is a really serious thing, it is an evil thing ... and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help without being helped ...  
I think, a lot of readers do not really grasp the meaning behind the words in all the stories here written about an abused Harry, they read the words, maybe they feel sorry for poor Harry ... but I guess just a few are really able to know what they mean, those words, what they mean for those children in our world ...  
Yet, closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist, is no solution ...  
So I write this to remind all of you who will read this, that there are children in our world which are enduring just such ... and worse ...  
to remind you of your feelings, of your sympathy, and of your understanding ...  
Maybe it will help some of you to handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs - whichever - of once being abused ... with understanding and with help ...

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

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break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter one **

**Prologue**

Children were sitting at four long tables in a great hall. A lot of children. Children of every age.

While at the end of the hall, opposite the large double winged door, was a long table placed alongside the back wall, filling nearly the entire back space along the masonry at which adults were sitting, talking to each other, casting stern glances over the mass of children from time to time.

The masonry of the old castle they were sitting in was heavy and the stony walls seemed to be nearly dark and cold. But they weren't. In the contrary. The great hall was filled with warmth and light.

Torches illuminated the walls from which the flickering glow was cast through the large space, mixing with the light from hundreds of candles which were floating through the air high above the five tables.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Just one boy was left now to be sorted into the house where he would belong to during his time in Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, and every one gazed at him, expectantly and intently.

Professor Dumbledore leaned forwards a bit in his seat, leaning his elbows onto the wooden surface of the table in front of him, so as if to have a better look. He was sure Harry would be sorted into the house of Gryffindor. Both his parents, Lily Evans and James Potter, had been in Gryffindor as well and most of the children were sorted into the same houses as were their other family members. In fact it was a rare occasion when families were visiting different houses – yet possible when watching the Patil-twins.

Nevertheless Professor Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, was sure what the sorting hat would chose for Harry Potter, the boy who lived. As was Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts.

She as well was sure the boy would be sorted into the house of Gryffindor, into her house as she was the head of Gryffindor-House and her hands trembled slightly with expectance when she called his name. Potter would fit well into her house she guessed, remembering the boy's parents, now dead.

**Flashback**

_"It is not true, Albus, it cannot be true. Tell me that all the rumours are just rumours and Lily and James are safe." The low voice of Minerva McGonagall trembled slightly as she spoke, walking beside the old wizard along the pavement. _

_"I am sorry, Minerva, but I fear all the rumours are true. Lily and James are dead, killed by Voldemort." Albus Dumbledore shook his head, a sad look on his old face and he sighed heavily._

_"I cannot believe it, Albus. They were such good people. They were members of the order. They were friends of us." There was a sound like a sob, but when Albus glanced sideways at her, her face was a calm mask. Of course. Minerva would never allow herself to lose her composure in front of others, not even Albus._

_"I know, Minerva." Was all Dumbledore answered._

_They arrived at the house they were been heading for, the house Minerva had been sitting in front of, in her cat form, the house she had been watching the entire day. Number four, Privet Drive._

_"What of Harry?" She asked in a low voice._

_"Hagrid is bringing the boy. He is safe. Nothing has happened to him when Voldemort cast the unforgivable against him. Nothing beside the fact that somehow the spell was backfired at Voldemort himself."_

_"Hagrid?" Minerva gasped. "Do you really think it wise to trust Hagrid with the life of the boy?"_

_"I would trust Hagrid with my own life, Minerva." Albus answered with a slight chuckle._

_"I do not question the loyalty of Hagrid, Albus. I only question his abilities. You know he is a bit ..." Her voice trailed of and again Albus chuckled while he turned to the house they were now standing in front of._

_Minerva followed his gaze and she shook __her head. "You cannot really intend to leave the boy here, Albus!" She said, her voice aghast. "I have watched them, Albus. I have watched them the entire day. They are the worst sort of muggles you could think of. I am not sure the boy will be safe here."_

_"They are his only relatives now, Minerva." Albus gave contradiction. "And besides of the blood wards which will keep him safe from the still free Death Eaters, they will care for him. It is the best choice we could make for the boy. Here he can grow up in peace and quiet. Without having every wizard at his heels wherever he turns."_

**End flashback**

She watched the boy when he slowly came closer to sit at the stool in front of the students, in front of the teachers and somehow she felt relieved. The boy was here finally. At Hogwarts. Yes, he would fit well into the house of Gryffindor.

Professor Snape on the other hand – even as he as well was sure where the boy would be sorted in – was glad that he would not have the opportunity of having Potter in his house and that for would not have much to deal with him. His dark eyes lingered at the boy, who now took a few unsure steps towards the wooden stool, with loathing in his dark gaze.

Harry ... Potter.

**Flashback**

_The soft flickering of the flames in the fireplace to his left felt calming. _

_It was the end of August and tomorrow the castle would be filled with students once again. It was the end of August and surely not cold enough for starting a fire. Yet – the dungeons were always colder than the rest of the castle so Severus often lit the fire in his private chambers during the late evening hours – even in summer. _

_The students. Severus sighed. _

_Tomorrow evening the peace and quiet of the summer holidays would be over and he would have to deal with new first-years. A subject he surely was looking forward to. For a moment he sneered at his own sarcasm. The first-years were the worst of students in general. The second-years already knew how to avoid him best. And the older they got the more peace he had from them. _

_The only students he really did not bother teaching were the sixth- and seventh-years. They already had some sense in their heads and he had to teach only those of them who gained an outstanding in their OWL's in potions at the end of fifth year. Those who really wanted to learn._

_Yet – this year ... this year would be different._

_This year two students would arrive to attend Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, which he already knew about._

_The first one was Draco. Draco Malfoy. His godson. And he was looking forward to have him in his house. _

_Of course he knew there would be problems occurring. Draco was not a child who would easily accept being just a student here and Severus was sure he would have to restrain the boy. Even if he was his godfather, and even if he liked the Malfoy boy, here he was his professor and his head of house. And Draco would have to accept this fact, if he liked it or not._

_But what he most looked forward to was the fact that here at Hogwarts, he would have some influence at the Malfoy boy who came from a family of loyal followers of the Dark Lord. Maybe he would be able to lead Draco onto a different path in his life. Maybe he would be able to show Draco that there were other ways besides of the Death Eaters. _

_Yet – he knew he would have to be very careful. He had been a spy during the war. And within __the Death Eater ranks he still was the loyal follower of the Dark Lord, the loyal Death Eater. And he was the head of Slytherin house. Not Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, nor Ravenclaw. No, Slytherin. _

_The house that was predestined for most dark wizards to come from and he knew he would have to be very careful to not put Draco – or himself – into danger of being a traitor. _

_Yet – somehow he would manage it. He had managed this with many other students. Even with Marcus Flint. And he had to admit that Marcus Flint had been not easy. He was in his sixth year now. And a year ago he had been sure that Flint would follow his father and become a Death Eater this very summer._

_Yes – the Dark Lord had been defeated. Ten years ago now. Ten quiet and peaceful years ago. But there were still so much followers of him, hoping he would return, bringing up their children with the knowledge of the dark arts, and preparing them for the day when they would follow the Dark Lord when he returned._

_The defeat of the Dark Lord. That was a thought that brought him to the second student whom of he knew would arrive Hogwarts this year._

_Harry Potter. The__-Brat-Who-Lived. Harry Bloody Potter._

_Would any other child have defeated the Dark Lord those years ago, he would have celebrated, he would have been able to enjoy the past ten spy-free years. But Potter? Had no other child been able to do this job? Why of all people Potter? _

_No, he really did not look forward to have Potter here in Hogwarts. The brat of his childhood's enemy. Damn James Potter. Damn him for being a stupid, spoiled and arrogant brat, damn him for torturing him during his entire days ins school, and damn him for stealing the one thing he ever loved from him. Lily. Damn him for all the pain and humiliation he ever had brought over him._

_And now he would have to deal wit Bloody James Potter's brat. The-Boy-Who-Would-Make-His-Days-In-Hogwarts-A-Living-Hell._

_No, he really did not look forward to this__ year._

_Even __Crabbe and Goyle, as stupid as they surely were, as stupid as their fathers, and both of whom arriving at Hogwarts this very year, he would prefer them. _

_Nott was another thing. Nott senior, one of the most loyal Death Eaters, and intelligent to add. He would have to be careful handling the young Nott. Yet – he would try to get him from this dark path__ too. As he did with every student of his house._

**End flashback**

So the brat of James Potter had finally arrived at Hogwarts. And he looked like his father too, Snape noticed with a curl of antipathy in his upper lip. He – in the contrary to every other teacher at Hogwarts – did not look forwards to have the brat in his lessons. Yet, he wouldn't be able to avoid it, now, would he?

Harry Potter did not notice all the expectance in the gazes he got from the staff table. He only tried to concentrate on setting one foot in front of the other, taking step after step, slowly, and to reach the large stool without stumbling. But then he had made it and he was sitting at the large stool, and even if he knew perfectly well now that every one within the hall was staring at him, he was relieved.

Professor McGonagall placed the hat onto Harry's head and then took a step backwards, watching with interest what would happen.

But nothing did happen. Nothing at all. For a long time at least.

'I see bravery in you ... you would do good in Gryffindor ...' The sorting hat mused within his head and Harry – even if startled – just knew only he himself could hear the words. 'But I see intelligence as well ... you would fit into Ravenclaw too ... I see kindness there and gentleness ... maybe you should be in Hufflepuff ... yet... I see an incredible sense to prove yourself, to come forth ... you could prove into the house of Slytherin ... but now ... where to place you?'

A much too long time the hat mused about him and Harry began to fear if the hat would have a place for him at all and he nearly began to panic. What if not? What if the hat decided he wasn't worth being a student at Hogwarts at all? He could not go back home. He could not go back to his family.

At first, while sitting in the train, and then while arriving at the old castle, he had thought the Dursleys were playing a joke on him. Only that the Dursleys had no sense of humour at all. But this place had been – _was _– so strange. No, the Dursleys would never ever play any joke on him concerning ... _magic_. Year after year, ten years they had taught him that magic did not exist, ten years they had punished him for all strange things which had happened in their surroundings, accusing him as if every thing was his fault.

And now, now he was sitting here, about to attend Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, a school concerning _... magic _...

Maybe this was just a dream and any moment he would wake up in his cupboard. But somehow he knew, this wasn't a dream either. But there was this hat, this hat that had placed all the other first year students into different houses. And this hat seemed at a loss placing him anywhere. He would have to go back to the Dursleys.

Yet – it was just impossible and memories washed over him, came unbidden and unwanted. Memories of his family. His aunt and uncle. And his cousin.

**Flashback**

_"You are not worth to live here, you ungrateful thing!" His uncle, uncle Vernon, bellowed while bringing the belt down onto his back as hard as he could in his rage. "And as you did not fulfil your chores, you cannot think us to give you anything to eat, now, do you?" He asked, still screaming, while Harry tried to at least protect his head with his arms as best as he could as he curled into a small ball at the ground. He was lucky his uncle did not fix him this time so he actually could curl into a small ball._

_"You do not even deserve the clothing we give you, nor the blanket in your cupboard!" He bellowed at Harry while kicking his foot into Harry's side, causing a strange breaking sound and pulling at his shirt at the same time until the boy lay with his bare upper body at his feet. A lot of bruises and scars already covered the skinny body and his back was already covered in fresh red and bleeding welts from the beating he just now got but Harry knew better than to scream. Not now at least. Far too soon this part would come, he knew. But not now. Not as long as he was able to hold it back somehow._

_He just would worsen the situation he was in._

_"And you will not go to this freak school either!" His uncle went on screaming and kicking and beating at him. "So you just will have to sleep in the cellar from now on!"_

_With this words Vernon Dursley took Harry by the arm and drug him over the corridor and to a door to his left which he opened. Without thinking he threw Harry downstairs, laughing amused at the small 'thud' and the low cry of pain that came from the dark when the body hit the ground and followed down the stairs. _

_He took hand of one of the wooden laths that stood in a corner beside the door and continued to hit Harry with it._

_It was one thing to got hit by a leather belt, but another to got hit by a wooden lath and Harry just wasn't able to suppress the screams any further while he tried to drag himself over the stony ground as deep as possible into the darkness of the vault, further and further away from his uncle._

**End flashback**

This had been nearly two month ago now. But it hadn't been the last time.

It had occurred nearly every day from then on, whenever he had been let out in the early morning hours to fulfil his tasks and uncle Vernon coming home during afternoon and seeing he had not completed them to his entire satisfaction. Not that it had changed much from before that. Yet ...

He had been standing in a corner of the kitchen, waiting for the Dursley's to be finished with their meals, standing there, watching them eat, hungry and wishing he would get just a little bit to eat, knowing the beating would be the next after uncle Vernon had finished his meal. But he had just been too tired and too exhausted to get his work done properly.

And now he was sitting here and the hat was about to refuse him.

'Not home ...' Harry desperately thought. 'Not home ... please ... anywhere but not home ...'

'Not home ... eh?' The hat answered inside his head and Harry nearly nodded. 'Not home ... then better be ... Slytherin!'

When Harry's name had been called out, for a moment everyone had become silent, frightening silent. But then, while the hat had been pondering that long over where to place Harry, whispers had been erupting at every table. Whispers about the famous Harry Potter, whispers about the boy who lived.

And then ... the hat had called out ... "Slytherin!" ...

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**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Snape watches Harry's strange behaviour during the welcoming feast and he has to set the rules for his new Slytherin students – including his childhood enemy's son._

_He is not looking forward to this._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would be grateful if you took the time to review this chapter … thank you …


	2. never mind how bad things are

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapter before ... thank you ...

And yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_When Harry's name had been called out, for a moment everyone had become silent, frightening silent. But then, while the hat had been pondering that long over where to place Harry, whispers had been erupting at every table. Whispers about the famous Harry Potter, whispers about The Boy Who Lived._

_And then ... the hat had called out ... "Slytherin!" ... _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter two**

**Never mind how bad things are ...**

Immediately the whispers were gone and silence erupted within the great hall, a silence so heavy it was nearly unbearable. No one of the students applauded as they had done before when their housemates had been sorted, nor the teachers, no one gave a sound and Harry stood there, listening to his own wild pounding heart, unsure what to do next, lowering an unsure and questioning gaze at the long staff table.

Professor Dumbledore sat in his chair, still bent forwards, gazing intently at Harry, his expression impossible to read, while Professor McGonagall stood still beside him, a shocked expression on her face. She had been so sure. And she nearly had been already proud that finally Potter would enter her house. But not even did he _not_ enter her house but that of _Snape_ instead. Slytherin ...

And Professor Snape himself? He sat there at the staff table, unmoving, but Harry could clearly see the shock in his dark eyes too and he flinched at the sight. He had noticed the deep loathing in them as well.

When the silence became too much and Harry wished to just vanish, wished he wasn't there, wished the stony floor beneath his feet would just open up and devour him, finally Professor Snape nodded his head into the direction of the far end table of the hall where the other Slytherin students sat and hesitantly Harry began to slowly move over.

Snape watched Potter as he slowly and hesitantly moved over to the Slytherin table, his dark eyes never leaving his slightly trembling figure. He did not even listen to the speech Dumbledore delivered. Not that it would have made any difference. The speech Dumbledore addressed the students with was always as stupid as every previous year.

Snape raised his left eyebrow, his head lowered to his right, when the Potter boy made his way to his house table but did not sit down onto the bench. As if it wasn't bad enough that the brat of James Potter finally visited Hogwarts school ... no ... he had to be in his house. In HIS house!

He would be responsible for the Potter brat!

A Potter in the responsibility of him, Severus Snape!

Why did he not sit down but remained standing beside the bench instead? Once again lowering an unsure and questioning gaze at him? Maybe the brat was dim-witted somehow? Slow? Stupid?

With an annoyed sigh of frustration and impatience he gestured the boy to sit down.

Well, he would do his job as he did with every other student. And he would teach the brat some manners and respect. He would cast a close eye on Potter. Maybe not all was lost on _this_ Potter as it had been with his father. But at first he would have to take a word with Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse. The Potter boy was just too pale and too thin and small for his liking. He looked rather like an eight or nine year old than like an eleven year old boy. Not that he cared, but he could not afford a student who was not well at all. And Potter seemed to suffer from an eating disorder. The brat had the nerve!

He let his gaze wander over the rest of his Slytherins. First over the elder students who already knew the table manners he expected from them ... and then over the first years which – of this he was sure – would yet have to learn what he expected from any students from his house, before his eyes came to a halt at Potter. He had his damn father's untamed and unruly black hair and Snape's eyes went even colder. Who had ever thought such, he again wondered. A Potter in his house.

He noticed that the Boy-Who-Was-Here-To-Annoy-Him-Even-More-While-Being-In-His-House was sitting at the outmost edge of the bench, as far away from Malfoy who was sitting beside him as possible without falling off the bench. He took in bent shoulders and a bowed head as well as hands that were resting in his lap.

Malfoy, with his silver-blond hair, sitting at Potter's side with his black hair, held out his hand but Potter just gazed at it without taking the offered hand and then looked aside. What was it that he could see in his face before it finally went blank? Snape wondered. He just could not name the expression. Was it fear? Uncertainty? Shame? Even pain? He could not really tell but then ... why in Merlin's name should the Potter brat feel uncertainty or shame? Or even pain? The boy surely had been pampered by his relatives like a prince.

Well, maybe he recognized that now he would be treated like every other student within Hogwarts and no relatives would come to aid and pamper him here. That he would have to bend to rules. That he was not better than the others were.

With a curl of his upper lip he noticed that the Potter brat felt even too fine for the food the other students had. He had not touched anything, not even his goblet with pumpkin juice. He just sat there, unmoving ... disturbingly unmoving ... just shaking his head when Malfoy asked something. Snape was rather used to the restless movements of children in general. Here a scratch at the nose, there a bounce with the feet and such ... but surely not ... a perfectly still child.

When the headmaster finally announced that the feast was over now and all the students were to leave to their dormitories, the first years led by the prefects, Snape watched the Slytherin table and finally left the great hall when he was sure that his students did behave well during their departing.

Unlike most of his colleagues he was not one to allow any lack of manners from any student and above all not from the students of his house. They would land themselves in detention before they even would be able to count onto one, he thought while he went towards the Slytherin common room.

Besides of himself the only other teacher who was as demanding and as strict as he was, was Minerva McGonagall, head of the Gryffindor house and that for he did respect her, always accepted her opinion. Yet, even if none of the students dared to cross her she probably was more soft than he was. Well, at least she was not as cold as he.

The other teachers, well, most of them lacked the strict hand the students needed, most of all Dumbledore himself who had often – much too often Snape thought – a strange liking on the students that made him elide unmannerly behaviour from them without punishment, without even telling them off.

Well, he – Severus – would not tolerate lack of manners or respect, and he would make sure the Potter brat was one of the first to learn this.

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Just like every year he had to announce the rules to his first years so he went into his office for a few minutes, looking over the lists of his new students, until he could be sure that the prefects had them all gathered and quiet before he entered the Slytherin common room, his black robes wafting behind him, making him look like an oversized bat. With a few long and swift strides he crossed the room and then stood in front of the nervous first-years, his hands clenching the back rest of an armchair that stood in front of him, Marcus Flint, the Slytherin prefect standing behind him.

For a few minutes he said nothing, just looked the new students over, every single one of them.

Malfoy was sitting in one of the large armchairs, his legs crossed, his arms laying comfortable at the armrests and he was answering his godfather's gaze with his own. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting at one of the sofas, together with Zabini and Snape had to admit that Crabbe and Goyle were as dull and stupid looking as were their fathers. Zabini was hard to read, yet – he expected him to be standard as he did not know his father. He did not come from a Death Eaters family. Nott – sitting in another armchair opposite Malfoy – he had the sharp gaze his father always showed, and he seemed to be well aware of his surroundings. Only his features were much more friendly than those of Nott Senior. His eyes nearly warm.

Parkinson, Bulstrode and Greengrass were sitting at another sofa, giggling with nervousness, Snape supposed, while Davis was standing behind them, leaning her upper body over the backrest towards the other girls. All of them seemed to be in a good mood and a good condition either.

Well, was one student left. Potter. And Snape growled.

His eyes wandered through the common room and fell onto a small figure standing beside the mantelpiece, and he lifted his eyebrow in annoyance. The damn brat seemed too fine to sit with the other students too, as it seemed.

"You will find strict rules, whilst you visit Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry." Snape finally began in his usual low and strict voice. "Hogwarts is no primary school and not even a common secondary school. Hogwarts is an academic institute and that for it is a privilege for you being allowed to visit Hogwarts. Thus I expect you to mind this privilege with outstanding respect and behaviour." Again his eyes darted from student to student.

"As you are sorted into the house of Salazar Slytherin ..." Snape finally continued. "I expect nothing less than the best behaviour from all of you. Slytherins are no Ravenclaws, no Gryffindors and surely no ... Hufflepuffs. And that for I expect you to act like Slytherins."

He paused and cast another stern look over the first years.

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle put their heads together and snorted loudly with laugher, disdain clearly seen in Malfoy's face.

"Would you mind to enlighten me of the reason of your amusement, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape sneered coolly, his sharp eyes on the slick blond haired boy.

"Well, who would - by free will - be in Huffledump or in ... Gryffindork ... Professor Snape ..."

"As I notice, Mr. Malfoy ..." Snape said, his dark eyes fixed with his stern glare at Malfoy and his voice was deadly calm. "... you are already familiar with some terms the houses are given by students."

Again Malfoy snickered lightly by Snape's compliment.

Not for nothing was Lucius Malfoy – one of the most loyal and faithful followers of the Dark Lord, trusted friend to Severus Snape and descendant from an old pure blood wizarding family - his father, and he knew Snape would make it easy for him. After all Severus was his godfather.

"You soon will learn, Mr. Malfoy, that I will not tolerate disrespect against the other houses." Snape answered. He knew all too well what Malfoy was trying to pull, that he believed he would get away with an easy life because of his family name and because of him being his godfather and a friend to Lucius, and he sneered in despise. Would Lucius ever know ... well, he surely would be dead by now.

"Every single one of the four founders had had his – or her – own qualities and you will respect them. Thus, when I declare you are no Hufflepuff or no Gryffindor, then I only indicate to you, as the Slytherin that you are, I expect you to act like a Slytherin. With the ambition to prove yourselves. Mind that, Mr. Malfoy." Snape locked his dark eyes into the grey-blue ones of Malfoy until the first-year cast his gaze aside and Snape continued, addressing the rest of the class.

"Well, you soon will find out, that there are some rules which all of you will follow if you wish to avoid punishments like detention, losing house points or even removal from school.

Your first rule is to show strength to others and loyalty on other Slytherins. I do not tolerate a Slytherin fighting one of his own house. You all will soon enough learn that the other houses will avoid and fear you, even despise you, just because you are sorted into Slytherin. Thus it is essential that you all act as one, that you can trust each other, and that you help each other, for no other one will aid you with help or understanding.

Your second rule is, no pain. Whenever one of you is in any pain, or else unwell, then I wish to know about it so I can help. Should I lern that one of my students is hiding his or her pain from me, believe me, you will not be pleased with my reaction.

Your third rule is to behave polite and show respect for teachers and older students." Gazing at Malfoy again he added, "never mind which houses they come from."

Again he turned back to the other first-years. "Your fourth rule is to show brains and common sense in studying and in dealing with others, and your fifth rule is – no lies. I do not tolerate _any_ lies, no matter how small they are. Be honest, always, and I can assure you, you will have my help. Lie to me, and you will not like the consequences. Any questions thus far?" He asked, his voice low and calm but with a cold sneer.

Severus Snape barely rose his voice. And the older students already knew the lower his voice became, the more dangerous it was. There just was no need to raise his voice. He always had been a teacher who had his students under perfect control without any efforts, without any blaring. His entire appearance made sure of that.

No one asked and Snape sneered again. He knew the questions would come soon enough, at the latest when the first new students had been in trouble and in detention.

"All students has to be present on time during breakfast, lunch and dinner in the great hall. No excuses." Snape continued while casting a stern glance at the Potter brat. He would not allow such ridiculous behaviour as an eating disorder. "The common showers has to be used every morning and every evening, as I am sure every one of you will by now have learned to use such. And I will not allow any disrespect of your school uniforms and any other clothing." With this words he cast another stern and cold gaze at Potter who visibly flinched. He had seen the state his clothing were in. Much too big and with holes and gaps in them. Surely a five year old would be able to care far better for his clothing than Potter did.

"The younger students will ask the older ones for help in their studies should there be need, and the older students will have a watch over the younger ones to ensure no one is left behind. Study groups will be held up every evening. Curfew is at ten o'clock for the first- and second-year students. Any questions?" Snape asked again and again none came.

"By tomorrow morning a schedule will be made up for a conference with every first-year student in my office during this week. Apart from this meeting I have office times three times a week and I request you to come and speak to me when there are problems, _any_ problems. As your head of house I am responsible for you and for your well being, so I expect you to address any difficulties that may occur to me. Of course you are allowed to address me with problems aside from my office times should the necessity occur. Added to this, there will be held a meeting every Saturday morning at nine o'clock in the office that is attached to the potions classroom and I expect every first year-student to visit this meeting with me. Any questions now?"

Once more none came and Snape nodded, casting one last and severe gaze over the young students.

"Then, I guess, I made myself clear." He finished, leaving the common room without a glance back.

Unlike the others Potter did not have had a seat onto one of the large sofas or armchairs but remained standing near the fire all the time during his speech to the first-years, head and shoulders slightly bowed, his gaze lowered onto the carpet beneath his feet and again Snape lifted his eyebrow.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

This evening Harry made sure he was the first one to use the shower, before every one else could do so.

He could just imagine how the rest of the students would react when seeing his scars and welts. Never would he allow that. No one was allowed to know. He just couldn't allow it!

They would laugh at him, would call him weak, and they would taunt him that he did deserve it for being that weak. And they would ask what he had done to be beaten thus. What would he tell them? What _could_ he even tell them? That he did not do anything? They would not believe him and would call him a liar. But he did not do anything.

He knew that he _did_ deserve all the beatings. He really did. Not because he had done anything, he never took anything without permission, not even touched anything without permission, and he never failed to be polite. He always did his best to finish his chores aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon gave him. He not even got into fights with other children – besides of Dudley, of course, and Dudley's friends. But those fights, he did not begin them. Well, he had not even a chance to get into a fight with own friends, because he never had had any friends. Dudley had seen to that.

But he did deserve them, he did deserve them because he was weak. Too weak to have all his daily works done properly, too weak to ignore the pain and too weak to ignore the hunger he felt, too weak to take his punishments without crying, too weak to ... just too weak to do anything ...

Not to mention the small fact that uncle Vernon would beat him to death if he ever found out that he had told anyone.

So he just had to ensure that he was the first one who took a shower.

He was wondering about the fact that the water was neither icy cold nor burning hot as it always had been when Aunt Petunia had gotten him under the shower or into the bathtub. Or uncle Vernon. Nevertheless he flinched when the first jets of water touched the welts from his last few beatings which were not healed yet, and he had to suppress a stifled cry of pain, had to lean against the wall for support for a moment, but then he got used to it. It was just comfortable warm and slowly he began to nearly relax a bit.

And – luckily no one came in.

After the shower he got dressed into his sleeping shirt and silently he crept out of the showers and into the dormitory that was allotted to the first years. None of the other students had noticed him. They had been too busy with talking to each other and exploring the new common room.

A small sign was attached to the heavy wooden door of the dormitory, a small sign reading 'Slytherin first-years - boys' dormitory' and slowly he pushed the ajar door open.

There were six four-poster beds in the room and he went past bed after bed, each accompanied by a wooden stool on top of which were lying clothes, the school uniforms and the school robes of Slytherin.

'Malfoy, Draco' he read upon the first bed to his left and 'Zabini, Blaze' to his right. 'Crabe, Vincent' and 'Goyle, Gregory' were the next followed by 'Nott, Theodore' to his right and 'Potter, Harry' by his left. So he had the bed by the open window. He liked this and he could imagine the slight wind coming through and the sun shining onto the bed. Never before had he had a window. Neither in his cupboard nor in the dark cellar afterwards and Harry slightly smiled before his smile faded, chased away by his ever present blank expression that only held a sad and pained expression within his eyes.

It did not matter that this bed by the window would be his. He would never be able to know how this would feel like or uncle Vernon would beat him to death.

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When the rest of the Slytherin first years entered the dormitory they laughed when their gazes fell upon Harry, huddled into a small ball at the floor by the window beside his bed, slightly trembling, his hands clenched into fists and a painful expression on his pale face while he softly murmured in his sleep.

"Look at this, the Potter baby surely fell out of his bed in the middle of the night!" Malfoy jeered.

He still remembered the hand he had offered Potter during the opening feast and he still remembered that Potter had not taken his hand in return. That he did not even speak to him, not even when he asked him if he wasn't hungry when he did not eat anything. Potter hat not answered him he just had shook his head. As if he were to good for him.

"Maybe we should wake him, so he can go back to bed." Theodore Nott offered, not noticing that the bed had not even been touched, taking a step towards his classmate lying at the stony floor, but Malfoy reached out his arm to stop him.

"You will do no such thing, Nott. Who are you? The son of a loyal ally of the Dark Lord, or the babysitter of Potter?"

Nott looked at him for a moment, but then he turned and got into his own bed while the rest of them followed his example. Malfoy had made himself quite clear. He did not want anyone of them to be befriend with Potter.

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_The first day in Hogwarts and the first classes._

_Harry tries to somehow hide his secrets and Snape tries to figure out why Harry is behaving so strange._

_Minerva notices Snape's growling about Harry._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too ... thank you


	3. they always can get worse

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ...

And yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"You will do no such thing, Nott. Who are you? The son of a loyal ally of the Dark Lord, or the babysitter of Potter?"_

_Nott looked at him for a moment, but then he turned and got into his own bed while the rest of them followed his example. Malfoy had made himself quite clear. He did not want anyone of them to be befriend with Potter._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter three**

**They always can get worse ...**

The next morning came and Harry woke early with the sunrise as usual. Never would his aunt or uncle allow him to have a lie in. So he got up from the stony ground he had been sleeping on, moving carefully and suppressing a low groan. The stony floor here in the castle was definitely much harder than the wooden floor of the cupboard, even harder than the mix of stone and earth he had been sleeping on in the Dursley's cellar and his entire body seemed to be stiff and hurt. But it was not as cold as the cellar had been. It was warm in here. Despite the glassless window.

Yet – he wondered how the window got in here. They were in the dungeons, weren't they? Underneath the earth.

But then he shoved this question aside. Enough strange things he had detected since the arrival yesterday evening, enough strange things that would cause aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon to give him a good beating, so he steeled his composure and finally got up. This question was not important and he had to make sure that he was the first one to take the shower, to be alone there, and so he silently tiptoed through the room and opened the door, went carefully through the common room and down another corridor leading to the showers.

And just like the evening before, he flinched when the first jets of water came upon his welts, touched the wall beside him with his hand to support himself, but when he got used to it, once again the water was comfortably warm and made him nearly relax.

Quickly he got dressed in his school robes afterwards and re-entered the common room. He would just going to read a bit in his new books until everyone was awake and time for breakfast arrived. Professor Snape had made himself quite clear, so he would have had to be present during mealtimes, during every mealtimes, even if he did not like that thought.

But then – he couldn't help it and so he just would be there.

Professor Snape, Harry instantly knew, was not one he should cross lightly. Not that he wished to cross him at all, but he just knew as well that whatever he did, he never did it right. He always made mistakes. And he feared he would sooner or later – most likely sooner than later – get into trouble like he always did at Privet Drive. And he cringed at that thought.

But then ... that as well he just couldn't help. He just would have to take it, as he took it all the time when he somehow managed to upset his uncle. There really was no difference so it wouldn't be any harder than at home. Yet – he had seen the loath and the hate in Professor Snape's dark eyes and he thought maybe he _could_ be worse than uncle Vernon had been.

He was still sitting at the stony floor beside the fireplace, not really reading but rather thinking, when the first students came down from their dormitories, and of course it were Malfoy and the rest of the first years. Followed closely by some fifth year students.

"Oi, look whom it is." Malfoy sneered when he saw Harry sitting by the fire. "It is Potter. Did you sleep well, last night? Beside your bed on the floor?" He asked in a mocking voice and even if Theodore Nott turned his head away so he did not have to look at Harry, the rest of them laughed loudly when they remembered.

"On the floor?" One of the fifth years asked and Harry groaned inwardly. Just what he had needed. Soon enough the entire school would know that he slept on the floor instead of using the bed because he was not allowed to do so.

"Yes, on the floor." Malfoy answered with a smirk on his face. "Whimpering like a baby."

Harry pressed his lips together but gave no reply. Why should he even? There was nothing he actually _could_ have said. So he just got up, wincing slightly at the movement and slowly made his way towards the great hall for breakfast.

That way he at least would not be late.

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During breakfast Snape watched the Slytherin table as he always did. His students – the older of them at least – knew perfectly well that nothing escaped his eyes. And the younger students would soon enough learn the very same.

But today he watched the Slytherins even closer than he normally would have done, especially the tableside where the first years sat, including Potter, and his eyebrow rose with even more displeasure than yesterday evening during the feast. Again – Potter wasn't eating. What did the brat think? To starve himself? Wasn't it good enough what was placed there at the table? And his annoyance even rose. He was sure the boy must be hungry by now, and no one with a clear mind would refuse to eat when being hungry.

On the other hand, Snape mused, who had ever heard of a Potter that would have a clear mind.

But now, like the evening before, Potter just sat there, head and shoulders bent and his hands hidden in his lap ... and ... as unmoving and perfectly still as he had been sitting there yesterday.

His eyes wandered to Draco and his lips curled up in what seemed to be meant as a small smile. He knew the boy since his birth and he liked him, even if he was spoiled. His parents granted him every single wish and whatever they gave him, it was brand new and the best of the best. Money was irrelevant for the Malfoys. Yet, what he did not get from his parents ... was love. Lucius Malfoy was a hard and cold man who expected the best from his son and Narcisas Malfoy was not much better.

Well, he had talked with the boy yesterday evening and he even had taken him to the hospital wing, just in case. And he had been glad that the boy had been well. A bit overexcited, but well.

Crab and Goyle, sitting opposite from Draco – he knew they were as spoiled as his godson was. Yet – they possessed no manner nor intelligence. And he knew enough of them that he could say both of them had a pleasant home life. They were loved with passion and their parents were proud of them. Even if he personally did not really know what for they were proud of and he snorted.

Nott. Sitting opposite from Potter. The boy seemed tired today.

Severus knew the older Nott well enough that he could say he was an evil man. As evil as Avery was.

For a short moment his gaze went to the dark haired boy that sat between two other second year students. Daemo Avery. He as well looked tired. Yet, Severus knew Daemo would recover during the next few days in school. He already had sent the boy to Madam Pomfrey yesterday evening, as he always did when he came back to school. Daemo would not follow his father's footsteps, what made his life at home not really easy.

Nott – he did not know if the boy was well. But he showed no outward sign of neglect or abuse, he only locked tired. But he knew he would have to pay very special attention and he knew he would have to be very careful when he talked to the boy later. At least he did not trust Nott Senior to be an understanding and caring father.

He would have liked to send the boy to Poppy yesterday evening, as he always did with Avery, Flint, Bole, Montague, and Warrington. And a few others from sixth and seventh year. Yet – he knew when he rushed the matters he would have troubles to gain the boy's trust. He would have to approach the matter carefully.

Finally his gaze went to Zabini. This boy he did not know at all. And he was glad for this, because it meant that his parents at least were no Death Eaters. Maybe they supported the Dark Lord. But at least they bore not the Mark. He would have the appointment with Mr. Zabini in an hour and then he would know more.

When finally student after student left the great hall to visit their first lessons, Snape watched as Flint approached Potter and handed him a note. He already knew what was written in it for he himself had made up the meeting with Potter and Madam Pomfrey.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry was about to get up and visit his first lesson this morning – transfiguration it was called, whatever this would be – as one of the older students – the prefect, Harry remembered – approached him, handing him a note. With a short nod of thanks he enfolded the small piece of paper and began to read.

'Mr. Potter,

ten o'clock this morning, hospital wing

please contact me, no excuses

sincerely

Madam Pomfrey'

With a silent groan of frustration Harry put the note into the pocket of his robe and finally got up with a low hiss of pain. Slowly he left the room for his first lesson ever at Hogwarts.

Snape on the other hand kept his seat, pondering.

He knew what had been written in the note and he had watched Potter close. Easily he had noticed the hesitance before he had taken the piece of parchment, his hands still hidden in the sleeves of his robe. Nevertheless he had seen them shaking.

He had also recognized that, when Potter enfolded the parchment, he did it with rather clumsily movements and Snape was sure this did not come from the shaking of his hands. Not at all at least.

When he had taken a look into Potter's face, he nearly was startled when he not only noticed the silent groan. He had not heard it, but he had seen it. He had seen the brief closing of his eyes while his entire features were about to slack before the boy had regained back his self-control.

But what remained and startled Snape was – even if a restrained face once more – a face that was as pale as death itself.

Finally Potter had clenched his teeth and went out of the great hall.

But – as he now had Snape's attention – the Potions Master easily noticed the slight wince when Potter got up from the bench he was sitting on and he noticed the slow and careful movements with which he made his way to the large double winged door.

He recognized both, the wince and the slow and careful movements at once as pain. He often enough had seen the same result from humans after the Dark Lord had tortured them.

Not that he bothered much, but as Potter was in his house from now on, he was under his care as well. He was responsible for Potter, and never mind how much he loathed him for being James Potter's damn brat, and being so much alike his father, he surely would take this responsibility serious.

No, he did not really bother. He just wondered. His curiosity had set in.

Potter at least _seemed_ to be in pain. But on the other hand, why should he be? And why should he not tell someone and get help?

'_Because they never do.'_ A small voice in the back of his mind whispered.

Damn, but Potter was a … a Potter! And a Potter always was attention seeking. It did not really make any sense. Yet, again, who would ever guess a Potter to actually have any sense?

Well ... he would go to the bottom of this riddle. And with a curious look on his face he got up.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry went straight to the classroom near the entrance hall where they would have transfiguration. It was Professor McGonagall's subject he knew and he wondered what kind of teacher she might be. She used to be head of Gryffindor. A head of a house, so she surely was as harsh and as unkind as Professor Snape was, wasn't she?

Then, could anyone be as nasty as Professor Snape? Maybe ... he was at least not ready to try her by coming too late.

But even as slow as he was he luckily was in time and when he arrived at the classroom he made sure he got a seat at the very back table in the classroom – alone. Nearly sighing with relief he sat down onto the small bench and took a few seconds to just sit there. He was frustrated with himself. Why wasn't he able to control his tiredness and his weakness today? Why wasn't he able to just ignore the pain like he did normally? It just was annoying. Unnerving.

He just had to show more strength.

When Professor McGonagall entered the classroom the chatter died down and she cast stern glances over them all. When her gaze fell onto Harry he noticed that her eyes seemed to linger longer over him than over the other students and he quickly cast his eyes down and stared at an ink dot somewhere at his desk.

"Transfiguration is not a subject to take lightly." She finally said in a stern voice. "A lot of accidents can happen with transfiguration and that for we will only use it on lifeless items now. Not until the midst of next year we will use it on living objects like insects and plants. To use transfiguration onto human beings is absolutely and strictly forbidden until you are accomplished at least your OWLS."

Her voice was as low and as calm as Professor Snape's but without the sneer and disdain in it.

"When you now please would get your wands out then." She ordered and Harry's head shot up, even if he immediately regretted it because of the headache that started to get worse at this sudden movement. Had she really said ... _'please'_? But she was an adult. Harry wondered. Why would any adult ever say please when ordering something?

But then ... why did he even care? He knew he would be in trouble soon enough, as always. And then, well this as well would change then. No one would say 'please' then anymore. And besides ... wondering about that right now would only worsen his headache.

"Today we will start to transfigure the fir needles in front of you into sewing needles and back into fir needles again." Professor McGonagall said, showing them how the spell worked, what they had to pay attention for and they set to work while she slowly paced through the class, correcting here a spell and righting there a hold or a flick on a wand.

One and a half hour later Harry however still hadn't managed to transfigure his needle while every one of the others had, besides of one other student called Neville Longbottom, and once again he felt the frustration washing over him. What if they decided he could not belong here when he would not be able to do any magic? What if they send him back home then? What if ...

"Would you please let me see how you are doing, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall's voice interrupted his thoughts and startled he raised his head and cast a quick glance at her. Slowly he rose his wand and moved it in the way Professor McGonagall had shown them, but as expected nothing happened.

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrow and gazed down her nose at him. "You actually need to _say_ the spell, Mr. Potter." She said. "Convertere pinetum is the right one, try it again please, Mr. Potter."

McGonagall knew well that some of the first-year's students, especially those raised by muggles, were afraid to actually use magic, and Potter seemed to be one of them. _'Of course,' _she mused. _'I told Dumbledore that he could not leave the boy with those muggles, didn't I? Well, he will get used to it, as they all do ...'_

Again Harry gave his wand the flick but once again without actually voicing the spell, even if his face was strained with concentration, and as expected ... yet again nothing happened.

"You will have to practice this spell, Mr. Potter." She said, gazing intently at Harry and her eyes as well as her voice made clear there were no excuses. "With your voice, if you please." She added before leaving his desk and brusquely turning to her own desk in the front of the class.

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Tiredly Harry leaned at the stony wall for support before he entered the great hall. He was tired. Not to mention the headache and the dizziness he felt. For to be true, his entire body seemed to hurt much more than yesterday and the fear of being sent back home because he was not able to accomplish magic did not help matters at all.

Transfiguration had not been working out that well. Nor had been charms. There as well – this time wingardium leviosa – had been a spell he needed to voice.

But how _could_ he have? Just how?

Without success he had tried to concentrate as hard as possible onto the spells, but yet again he had failed, as always in his life and with a desperate sigh he finally pushed himself off the wall and entered the great hall for lunch. Not a task he was looking forwards to, but as Professor Snape had made himself clear that there were no excuses ...

Slowly he made his way to the Slytherin table and took his usual seat beside Malfoy at the high end of the table with a low sigh, trying to hide the trembling of his fingers and trying not to watch as every one around him ate. He did not care that the other first-years ignored him. In the contrary, he was glad for it, it gave him a little bit of peace.

Nevertheless he was able to scent the smell of the chicken wings and roasted potatoes and his stomach clenched in pain. Yet he forced himself to keep his head down and his hands folded in his lap.

Snape kept a close eye on the Slytherin table – as he always did.

He was the head of the Slytherin house and their behaviour was in his responsibility. Would they not show table manners, then it only would come back upon him. He expected nothing less than the best of manners from the students of his house as his students knew. And ... they knew that nothing ever escaped his sharp eyes.

Nor did the fact escape him that the Potter boy – yet again – did not eat and his face darkened. What the hell was that brat thinking? Not to mention the fact that Potter had not ... NOT ... been visiting the hospital wing either as Madam Pomfrey had informed him just before lunch. The boy just sat there at the table in the same way he had been sitting during the past mealtimes. Head and shoulders bent, his hands resting in his lap and avoiding to even gaze at the food in front of him.

The only difference was that this time he looked even paler than he had done yesterday evening and this morning, and the fact that he could note the ever slightest tremble from his features.

No wonder! Snape thought darkly. Without eating properly, and without sleeping properly either.

Yes, Flint had visited him this morning in his office and told him that Potter – according to Malfoy – had been sleeping on the floor instead of within his bed, sleeping restless. Not that what Snape would call a refreshing sleep and he lifted his eyebrow.

As it seemed, it was time to have a little conversation with Potter – even if he did not look forward to that – sooner than he had planed. He had set the appointment with the Boy-Who-Tried-To-Drive-Him-Into-Madness at the latest time possible, what would have meant in a week. Wasn't it enough that the brat was in his house and he, Snape, that for was responsible for him? No, apparently it wasn't enough ... he had to cause him as much trouble as possible too, as it looked.

Just as he let out a dark growl of anger that made Minerva McGonagall to his left look at him with her eyebrow raised, one of the school owls flew towards him and dropped a note which the Potions Master easily grabbed midair.

'Dear Severus,

would you please be as kind as to bring Mr. Potter to the hospital wing at 3 p.m.

just to ensure that he will not miss this time

sincerely

Poppy Pomfrey'

Letting out another low but dark growl he folded the piece of parchment.

As he had thought. Just as much trouble as possible. As if he'd had nothing else to do than guarding Potter to the hospital wing. Never before had he guarded any student to there. Never ...

Well, yes. Of course he had. But that was different. They were not Potter, damn!

"Are you all right, Severus?" Minerva's stern voice got him out of his dark thoughts and he turned his head, forced his face into a calm and cold mask as ever.

"Of course, Minerva. I just was thinking."

"Obviously! Well, Severus, may I suggest that you rather would not think of such dark thoughts – as you apparently did – during lunch? I am sure you will have enough time to growl about Potter during lessons so you do not really have to expand such to meals?"

"Potter is in my house and that for I am responsible for him." He answered, his voice short-tempered. He never had been able to fool Minerva. He rather would be able to fool Dumbledore, but not Minerva. "And he is not even twenty-four hours here and already causing trouble."

"Trouble?" Minerva shook her head, casting a short but worried glance at the Slytherin table. "You surely cannot mistake homesickness for trouble, my dear Severus."

"Homesickness ..." Snape sneered, his eyebrow raised.

"Of course, homesickness, Severus. You just look at the poor boy. He is not eating and I heard he'd had bad dreams last night and fell out of his bed. And during the transfiguration lesson he was not even able to speak."

Snape gazed at her, his brow even rising more in a questioning manner. What the hell did Minerva try to tell him?

"Well, he just was so nervous, he was not able to use his voice." Minerva explained. "Just give him time and be patient with him, Severus, will you?"

Snape groaned under his breath. As if he ever had been blessed with patience or such.

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Snape will have to ensure that Harry visits the hospital wing this time and he is not pleased with what he'll find out during the ... well ... 'conversation' ... with his new young Slytherin who found himself so unexpectedly in his care._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too ... thank you


	4. lingering a while by the point of worse

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ...

And yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Snape gazed at her, his brow even rising more in a questioning manner. What the hell did Minerva try to tell him?_

_"Well, he just was so nervous, he was not able to use his voice." Minerva explained. "Just give him time and be patient with him, Severus, will you?"_

_Snape groaned under his breath. As if he ever had been blessed with patience or such._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter four**

**Lingering a while by the point of worse ... **

When the students began to leave the great hall one by one, Severus stood and went to the Slytherin table, approaching The-Boy-Who-Made-Sure-He-Would-Lose-His-Temper-Soon.

Potter still sat there without moving and Snape's face went even darker. It was half past one now and he had an hour and a half until Madam Pomfrey awaited them. He would ensure Potter did not escape the hospital wing this time. He would have a talk with the brat until then. Coming to a halt beside him he darkly glowered down onto the spoiled brat who flinched when he noticed him standing beside the table.

"Follow me, Potter." He ordered and then went to the large double winged door leaving the hall, heading towards the dungeons and straight to his office. He was halfway through the corridor downstairs as he noticed Potter's steps were not to be heard anymore and angrily he turned. Did this stupid boy really think he could escape him that easily?

But as he turned he could see the Potter brat far behind him and he gave an annoyed sigh, folding his arms in front of his chest, impatiently drumming the fingers of his right hand on his left arm. Couldn't the boy hurry up? He surely had other, and definitely more pleasant things to do than to wait until the brat would finally chose to stroll along, not to mention to lead him to the hospital wing in the first place.

"Nice you finally chose to stroll along, Potter." He sneered as the boy came closer. Yet, he noticed the weary, nearly exhausted movements which seemed to be even painful to Potter and again he raised his left eyebrow, curiously.

Potter lowered his gaze onto the ground when he finally came up to him and Snape's eyebrow tilted even higher as he noticed hidden fear in his appearance. Snape was not for nothing the spy that was so often sent to the Dark Lord by Dumbledore and he was well trained in discovering such hidden things. Just as the fear and the pain the boy now tried to hide from him.

Once more growling darkly he turned and got on heading towards his office, raising his wand when they finally reached it, entering as the door opened.

"Sit!" He just ordered, indicating at a chair in front of his desk while he remained standing behind the writing table, his fingertips touching the wooden surface of the tabletop, waiting until Potter had done as he had been told, watching him close.

Potter sat at the chair in front of the desk, head lowered and shoulders bend as ever, his hands held hidden underneath the sleeves of his robes, nevertheless Snape easily could make out their shaking. Fear and pain was clearly written in his features now, even if he still tried to hide it and even as he disliked Potter, he grew worried as he watched him.

The boy sat in front of his desk, slightly trembling, and Snape shook his head in further annoyance. Potter was so thin he looked as if he would snap in two pieces in a gust of wind. Yet – he was not eating as he should. He was not eating anything at all, damn. The temperature down here must be killing him.

He picked up his wand from the desk and wordlessly cast it at the fireplace with a flick of his wrist where at once flames flickered into life, warming up the normally chilly air down in the dungeons.

"If my memory serves me right, then you were ordered to the hospital wing today at ten o'clock, Potter." Snape announced in his calm but dark voice, still observing the boy in front of him. The brat cringed at the words but did not answer, not even look at him, he just nodded his head.

"You were not there, Potter. Explain yourself!" Snape demanded.

For a few seconds the boy lifted his head and cast a fearful glance at him and he opened his mouth – only to close it immediately and lowering his head once more, he gazed at the stony floor beneath his feet with a helpless shaking of his head.

"I did ask you to explain why you were not in the hospital wing today at ten o'clock when you were ordered to go there, Potter, and I wish to get an answer from you."

Snape could even _feel_ the fear rising into panic when Potter again lifted his head, cast a quick glance at him that reminded him at something close to despair before lowering his eyes yet again onto the stony surface and he shook his head. Yes, as the dark Potions Master and head of Slytherin house, he surely was frightening and scary, yes, he knew that. And surely he was the cause for every first-year student to burst into tears at least once during the term, but no student ever had been gotten into a panic attack because of him. At least no student of his own house.

"Surely the muggles did teach you how to speak, Potter." Snape growled and he – again – got just a short nod as an answer. This time Potter did not even raise his head to look at him.

And again the only resemblance he had for this kind of behaviour, and above all the brat's appearance, were the humans which had been tortured by the Dark Lord. But surely Potter never met _him_ so far.

"Raise your head and look at me, Potter." Snape demanded and the boy did, even if it seemed to the Potions Master that it cost him all his will and strength to do so and to keep his gaze steady. Frozen in his seat, Potter was as tense as a hamster in an owlery.

"Now, if the muggles had been teaching you how to speak – as you admitted earlier – then would you be that kind to give me an answer to my question as to why you did not went to the hospital wing this morning?"

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Harry cringed at the sharp tone in Professor Snape's voice. He knew well that the teacher wanted an answer from him. But just how should he give him one? And besides of that, what should he even say?

_'I am sorry, but my aunt and uncle were beating me and I do not wish for anyone to see that.'_

He could imagine what respond this answer would gain and he flinched at the mere thought. But even if he would be ready to give Professor Snape that answer, he could not. He just _could_ not. He did not even know _how_. And unable to control his trembling anymore he just lowered his eyes back down onto the floor. He knew he really was in trouble now.

Snape on the other hand now truly grew worried when he recognized Potter finally and definitely _had_ reached the level of panic, when he saw he was no more able to control his shaking, nor his breathing that came much too fast for his liking and he walked past the desk, leaning against the wooden furniture, his eyes still watching the boy in front of him. His guess couldn't be right, now could it? Surely not. The Dark Lord was out of question. And Potter had been save with his relatives.

Yet, Potter's entire body spoke a language of its own as it went rigid when Snape had come closer and he had held his breath only to release it when he had been stopping his approach, when he had been leaning at the desk instead. And the words Minerva had said to him earlier came to his mind. _'And during transfiguration he was not even able to speak.'_

"I told you to look at me, Potter." The Potions Master once again demanded.

The boy obeyed, even if his trembling got any worse and his face lost all the remaining colour that had been there until now and Snape's face got even darker instead.

"Good ..." Snape growled darkly not leaving an eye off the boy in front of him. "And now I wish to get answers to my questions, Potter. And no lowering of your head or your eyes. You will keep looking at me when I speak to you. Did I make myself clear?"

The boy nodded, even if Snape easily could make out his uneven and meanwhile ragged breathing. The boy's body was tense, and there was undisguised panic in his eyes.

"So, Potter, are you able to speak? To use your voice? In any language, that is?" He finally asked, nearly fearing the answer. That was not the Potter he had expected to be the son of the James Potter he knew. Snape felt more than saw the boy blanched and stiffened even more at his words, and he could see the open look of fear in his eyes.

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Well, had he really expected any thing else?

No, when he had to be true, then he had to admit that he only had pretended to think otherwise.

Lowering his eyes again in shame he shook his head. What else should he do?

It had just been too good. Being away from his aunt and from his uncle. AND from his cousin as well. But that would now be past. Surely he would have to go back immediately. How could he have been so stupid?

Snape's face remained calm, but inwardly he was nearly shocked and for a moment _he_ now was speechless. The boy really could not speak? Actually not? Not at all? But how had he been able to communicate with his relatives? Sign language? Maybe Potter should be send back to them and rather visit a different school than Hogwarts. But then ...

No, that was no option. There was the prophecy. And Potter was the one to fulfil it. He had to learn doing magic and he had to learn what it was to be a wizard, he had to learn what had to be done to stop the Dark Lord.

But how?

And he himself shook his head.

"Eyes up, Potter." He ordered, but yet again – Snape grew frustrated now – the boy just again shook his head, bending even more forwards, hugging his arms around his midsection as if in an attempt of self-protection.

Snape had seen the shame in the boy's eyes that mixed up with the fear and the pain, but he did not really understand why there would be shame. "I said eyes up, Potter." He repeated. "I wish to look into your eyes when I speak to you. Now!"

And this time Potter really managed to rise his gaze. Only to flinch back with a low gasp of horror as the Potions Master lifted his hand to rub his forehead and Snape stopped his movement midair, eying the child in front of him suspiciously. Somehow he had been right. He noticed Potter kept looking at his hand warily.

But how? And who?

Slowly he lowered his hand, watching Potter whose eyes never left his hand until it was resting at the wooden surface of the desk behind him. Only someone who feared a hand would react in such a way, and only someone who had been beaten would fear a hand in such a way. But yet again. How? And who?

"Are you hurt in any way, Potter?" He asked in a low tone of voice, nearly gentle, forcing himself to remain that calm.

He knew it was one thing to deal with an adult human who had been tortured.

And this had been something he often had done while the Dark Lord had been at powers. Something he had done whenever the Dark Lord had been torturing his victims and he had been present. Even if he never had been able to prevent it did he not wish to lose his cover. But he had at least been able to ease those victims afterwards – a bit, that's it. Had been able to give them a swallow of pain easing potion here and a mouthful of calming draught there. Even if no one who ever knew him would believe it, and he himself never would admit it.

Yet – it was another thing do deal with a child that had been abused.

After gaining a shaking of his head from the boy Snape lifted his eyebrow. "Did someone ever beat you, Potter?" He asked, and this time he was sure the boy did not tell the truth for this time the headshake came just too quickly and was just too vehement.

He couldn't get along in that way much longer. He only would waste time without getting anywhere.

Not that he cared anymore about the wasted time. He was beyond that point now.

Whoever this boy was, or better whoever's son he was, no one deserved that what Snape guessed, a child at the last. He could later deal with the fact that this was Potter's son and growl at him. Just now he had to actually do something.

So he drew his wand and pointed it at Potter.

"Legilimens." He whispered and immediately images flared through his mind. One by one. Images which Harry as well could see inside his own head and he cringed.

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Of course he knew that it probably was not really a good idea to break into Potter's mind, without asking for permission, considering that the boy was far too young for such, to handle the outcome, to handle what he felt. Yet, what else should he do? He had to know and Potter obviously was not able to tell him anything. _'As if he would, would he be able to ... '_ Snape growled darkly. But then he shoved that thought aside and concentrated onto Potter's mind instead but he felt a strange sensation and all he could see was grey fog.

For a split second he had been able to see. Images, mixed with emotions, with pain and fear, with desperation. But then the images were gone and all that remained was the fog.

Irritated he shifted his wand a bit and tried to search another part of Potters mind, yet – with the same effect. There was nothing beside of the grey fog that swirled through the boy's mind.

How could that be, he wondered. That was not possible. Potter's mind surely could not be filled with only – fog.

But yet, it obviously was.

Well, under other circumstances he would say, of course, fog filling the mind of a Potter, that was fitting. But this were no other circumstances. And this was not funny at all, for he _knew _that it was impossible for any human mind to be filled with fog.

Confused he gazed at the boy and his heart nearly skipped a beat.

That – was not possible. Absolutely never possible.

Yet – Potter still sat there, unmoving, but his pale face was a mask of concentration. Concentration mixed with despair.

Frowning darkly he focused back onto the fog in Potters mind, waved his wand again, tried to find a spot where the fog was thinner and weaker, where he could break through the misty clouds, meanwhile nearly swearing. It just could not be possible. Absolutely not. This wasn't the first time he used legilimens after all. He was a trained user of legilimens. But yet – he was not really able to break into Potter's mind.

Whenever he moved his wand and tried to find another place to go through the fog, he was able to get glimpses of images and then he was able to feel. But within the second it was gone and the only thing left behind was the fog. He even could feel the power that pushed him out of Potter's mind.

But when legillimens met up with occlumency, the only way one could provide the intrusion into the mind, then there was no fog. The one using legillimens was just thrown out of this ones mind, could not enter. Yet – he felt the same sensation that pushed him out of Potter's mind as if he had used occlumency.

Could it has been some kind of accidental magic? But why? And how? Such a powerful kind of magic as occlumency was could not be accomplished by accidental magic. That just wasn't possible.

Slowly Snape lowered his wand, never leaving his eyes off Potter, wondering what this boy would be able to accomplish would he have learnt to control his abilities. For mere minutes Snape stood unmoving in front of his desk, gazing intently at the boy.

Potter's face was – even if Snape had thought it impossible – yet more pale and he could see signs of exhaustion in it.

Of course ... when Potter really had blocked him to use legillimens ... him ... the Potions Master, not even just an adult but a teacher, a teacher that worked as a spy on Dumbledore's order to undercut the Dark Lord, him who had used legillimens even against the Dark Lord himself without the Dark Lord noticing it, him who had used occlumency against the Dark Lord when he had tried legillimens on him – without being noticed ...

He would be dead by now, would the Dark Lord just once had noticed him using occlumency against him, hindering him to enter his mind ...

And he ... he was best by a child ... by a first-year ...

But on the other hand, what could he do?

He had to find out why the blasted brat acted that strange. And he had to know if there was any chance that he was able to speak, or to accomplish magic – other magic than accidental magic. He just _had_ to know.

"Are you able to use sign language, Potter?" He asked.

He himself did not know all the signs, it had been a long time ago since he last needed them, many, many years, but he could remember some and he was sure he could read them if Potter used them.

Yet – again – Potter shook his head and Snape had to suppress a sigh of frustration. His gaze darkened and raising his eyebrow he folded his arms in front of his chest, ensuring he was moving slowly. He would – if he wished or not – have to use the normal way, trying to speak to the brat – with patience. Without a sound he snorted. As if he had been one whose qualities lay in talking patiently to his students. He!

"Now you listen to me, Potter." He began, his voice growling silently. "I know that you surely have been beaten. And by your behaviour I guess more than once. You just do not wish to admit it because the one who did, I guess, forbade you to tell anyone. No ..." He added when Harry began to shake his head once more. "Do not dare lie to me, Potter." He growled darkly.

Never leaving his eyes off Potter Snape clearly noticed the flinch at his last comment and he reminded himself that he should be more calm when he wished to get anything out of the boy. After gazing a few mere seconds at him, watching him intently while Potter himself sat there as unmoving as ever, he finally pushed off the desk and went behind the table, opened a drawer and took out a piece of parchment and a feather, placing both at the desk, in front of Potter.

"As you are not able to speak, Potter, I wish you to write down your answers." He said. "So my first question is: have you ever been able to speak? And when yes, when and why stopped this?"

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Harry gazed at the parchment in front of him, the butterflies in his stomach more and more tumbling through his bowels.

He knew what Professor Snape wished of him, but he could not. How should he? He just _could_ not.

He _could_ not tell anything. He would be dead if he did. He just knew. His uncle would kill him the moment he would set his foot back into number four Privet Drive. And he more and more was sure that he would be expelled because he could not do magic, because he could not speak, because he could not ...

Slowly the mask he had been playing crumbled and more and more he felt himself falling into panic. He could not go back, he would not survive going back, he would ...

Snape lifted his eyebrow even higher when Potter's trembling increased to a point where he feared the boy would just collapse but he did not reached for the feather and his impatience threatened to gain the upper hand. Why in all names of Merlin had he – HE – to deal with this brat? Why not McGonagall? Or one of the other more understanding and patient teachers?

Sighing heavily he leaned forward, leaned his elbows onto the surface of his desk, eying Potter who had drawn his arms around his mid section again, as if to prevent himself from falling apart, as if to protect himself, very close. "You surely have learned how to write in the primary school you visited, Potter, haven't you?" He asked dryly, not able to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

Yet he was shocked when the brat in front of him cast a quick, fearful glance at him and then lowered his gaze in shame back at the floor and a barely visible shaking of his head was the answer.

Snape took a moment to understand _what_ the boy's headshaking meant. But then he got up once again and turned around the desk, leaning against the furniture, his arms folded in front of him. But still it took him a few more seconds until he was able to voice his next question and his voice was nearly threatening. "You really wish to tell me, you never learned to write, Potter?" That was just absurd. It was not possible.

But the Potter brat nodded. Barely visible, flinching at his threatening tone, and his eyes still lowered at the stony ground. But he nodded.

How could an eleven year old not be able to write? What did the brat do in his primary school? How had he been communicating with his relatives? How had he been able to communicate at school? With friends? How had he been able to communicate at all? Angrily he shook his head, while he once more reminded himself that he should keep a clear mind and a calm tone. He had the feeling that there was more behind that all than he was able to see now. He feared that maybe it had something to do with the relatives he lived with.

But that was ...

Dumbledore surely would not have allowed such. He surely would not have placed Potter with relatives who would not care properly for the boy.

Yet – the neglected clothing, the thin and small, nearly starved appearance, the fearful and jumpy behaviour, the fact that he seemed to be in pain, that he could neither speak nor write. When separately regarded, surely nothing to bother about, but taking it all together ...

Well, maybe Poppy would get more answers out of the boy. It was time to visit the hospital wing anyway.

"Well, Potter, we will continue this later. Now it is time to meet up with Madam Pomfrey. If you would follow me."

Again he pushed off the desk and was about to turn when he noticed Potter shaking his head, a pure look of horror on his face, his eyes wide with fear, and he stopped, his eyes narrowed.

_If_ he was right, and his relatives _had_ something to do with this, then he knew why the boy refused to go to the hospital wing. He feared he would get into trouble would anyone find out what happened at home. Surely his relatives had forbidden to talk about this. And surely he feared his relatives would find out he had.

With some children of Death Eaters in his house he had gotten more than just one abused child into his hands when they first arrived at Hogwarts. And it was always the same. Just that he never, absolutely never, had thought he would find the son of James Potter in such a situation. Well, never would he have thought having the son of James Potter in his house in the first place.

Sighing heavily he went back to the boy and for a few seconds just gazed down at him.

He easily could see the tiredness and the hunger as well as the exhaustion in those emerald green eyes. Eyes that reminded him so much of Lily Evans. Gritting his teeth he slowly knelt in front of the boy, still watching him very close. Damn that blasted brat for having his mother's eyes.

Of course he could notice tiredness and hunger in those damn emerald green eyes. The brat hadn't eaten anything since he arrived at Hogwarts, and he surely wasn't really sleeping either by not using his bed but the floor.

Potter flinched when he knelt in front of him, coming within his personal space, but Snape forced himself to ignore it as well as to ignore the fact that the boy stiffened and tried to draw back from him.

"If I am not mistaken, you live with Vernon Dursley, your uncle. Am I right?" He asked in a low and as kind as possible voice, and very slowly, unsurely, the boy nodded.

"Well, then let me assure you, Potter, your uncle will not find out about this. This is a school intern matter and it will not leave the walls of Hogwarts. Do you understand?" Again the boy in front of him nodded, slowly, hesitantly.

"Good. Then if you would follow me please ... to the hospital wing ... there are some things I wish to be cared for." Slowly, without waiting for an answer he got to his feet and held his hand out towards the door, indicating there was no way the boy could escape the Potions Master's wish.

And slowly, hesitantly, with nearly careful movements, Potter rose from the chair he was sitting at, but he couldn't move further in his half-panic, a nauseous feeling rising in his chest, in his stomach.

Snape stopped suddenly at the gasp that was heard from the boy as he opened the door. A gasp of fear, and as he turned he saw the boy slowly retreating towards one of the bookshelves until his back was pressed against the wooden shelf, his head slightly shaking no and his green eyes large, larger than they should be.

Sighing and bracing himself for what he knew would come, Snape took a step towards his student, just as Potter slide down the bookshelf as if to make himself as small as possible.

The boy shivered and hugged his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth and slowly Snape circled the desk and neared the boy as cautiously as he would approach a wild animal, crouched down next to him to be on eye level with his student. He felt his own heart clench painfully as he took in the boy's terrified expression, pained and panicked where only minutes ago it had been a mask behind which he had hidden his emotions so well.

He knelt on the floor and he had not to search in Potter's eyes, the boy's entire body was screaming his fear and desperation. "Potter, believe me, there is no need to fear a visit in the hospital wing." He said. He waited a moment for a response and receiving none, he slowly and carefully grasped Potter's shoulder, ignoring the boy's flinch, but knowing he now had his attention. "Potter ... Harry ... you are safe here, and your uncle will not learn a word of this conversation. But I will not allow any student of mine to be injured or harmed in any way."

The boy still trembled but stopped himself from rocking back and forth, instead he tried to squirm away from the Potions Master's touch, tried to become even smaller, to hide himself away.

With his free hand Snape pulled out a small vial with a clear liquid, undid the stopper and offered it to Potter. "Drink this, Harry." He said, his voice as even and low as possible, holding the vial to the boy's lips. "It is a calming potion. I guess you ..."

He was not able to finish his sentence. As soon as the vial came into contact with his lips, Potter gave a startled scream away and kicked his leg at the older wizard, the panic clearly visible written over his face. And as if this had hit a trigger, the panic-attack was there full blown. He stiffened for a split second, but then he tried to pull away from the Potions Master's hand on his shoulder and the moment Snape increased the grip he had on him, he again kicked at him, tried to push him away, tried to squirm free.

Snape was prepared, and with one swift movement he placed the vial at one of the lower shelves behind the boy so he had both hands free and gripped the small wrists with a firm, yet gentle grip, turning the boy at the same time so he could gather the small body into his arms, pressing him with his back against his chest so that he could harm neither himself nor the Potions Master.

He wasn't angry at Potter. He knew, the boy only tried to somehow defend himself in his fear, and he only had to wait until the boy got tired, until his moment of strength left him. He did not like such actions, but he nevertheless had them nearly every year after school began.

Just a few minutes later all the fight had gone and Harry had no energy left to struggle. He found himself being almost embraced by his professor, his back against Snape's chest, the Potions Master's hands encircling his wrists.

Snape took advantage and gathered both of the small wrists in one hand and taking the vial from the shelf with his other he placed it at the boy's mouth and tipped it before the boy would know what came. Often the children swallowed out of surprise, but he would not risk anything, so Snape simply let the empty vial fall to the floor and immediately placed his free hand over the boy's mouth and nose, preventing him from spitting the liquid out, forcing him to swallow in order to breath.

"Just swallow it, child." He whispered. "I know you fear me right now, but I assure you, I will not harm you. It is only a calming draught. It will help you to calm down. Just swallow it, and I will get my hand away. I will not hurt you. I promise."

He observed the boy in front of him, noticed the moment when the small body in his arms got rigid for a moment before he swallowed and the trembling increased before it finally lessened and the boy nearly got limp with exhaustion and under the influence of the potion.

"That's it, child!" He whispered, releasing Harry's mouth and placing his hand instead at the damp forehead. "I know exactly what you feel, Harry." He whispered in his still low and gentle voice into the boy's ear. "You fear your uncle will find out you told us what happened at home. You are not the first student coming from an abusive home and landing in my care. Thus I know exactly of your fear." Snape doubted Potter even understood what he was saying, yet – he had at least to try. "But believe me, Harry. You are perfectly safe here. I know how to handle such situations and I can assure you, your uncle will not find out what events had taken place here and now."

Finally the boy seemed to consider his words for a moment and the Potions Master could almost see the wheels turning in his head. He knew by the look on his features that he began to accept what he said as the truth.

"That's fine. On your feet now, Potter." Snape felt suddenly very tired as he carefully gripped the boy's upper arms and pulled him onto his feet, again ignoring the flinch and the gasp of horror, before he took a step away from the boy to allow him a bit of peace, still watching him close.

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Snape walked down the corridors, more unhurriedly than he would have normally done, but he knew he had to give the exhausted boy the chance to keep up with him and he didn't want him to collapse before they reached the hospital wing. He had no intentions to carry any student to the infirmary and Potter at least.

Besides of this, he had to ensure that the boy would not again try to pull any stupid stunts such as the one in his office just a moment before. He had to get him to Poppy, and he knew he would not be able to leave the infirmary until she had finished her diagnostic spells and – if necessary – her administrations. Would he leave, the boy probably would give her some troubles doing her work.

After all, Potter was not the first student he picked up from the floor after a breakdown, after the mentioning of the infirmary. They all reacted similar. And he knew his firm and demanding presence in the hospital wing would keep the boy under some control. Depending on how deep Potter's fear sat. Snape knew he had to be prepared for nearly everything when it came to handling mistreated children.

But again – he would not have thought James Potter's son to be one of this children. Maybe the hat had been right to place, against all odds, Potter into the house of Slytherin, into his – Severus' – care.

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Snape takes Harry to the hospital wing and he is startled about what he finds out there._

_Minerva will have a new insight into the Potions Master when she watches the man handling James Potter's son._

**Added author's note**

this was not an easy chapter, I have to admit. I had my problems with this one, and I guess the next one will not be much easier

so thank you for reading - and yes, I would appretiate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you


	5. and then leading from worse to worst

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ...

And yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_They all reacted similar. And he knew his firm and demanding presence in the hospital wing would keep the boy under some control. Depending on how deep Potter's fear sat. Snape knew he had to be prepared for nearly everything when it came to handling abused children._

_But again – he would not have thought James Potter's son to be one of this children. Maybe the hat had been right to place, against all odds, Potter into the house of Slytherin, into his – Severus' – care. _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter five**

**And then leading from worse to worst ...**

Harry tried to follow his professor as quickly as possible, trying not to stumble and trying not to drop too much behind, meanwhile thinking of a way to escape before they reached their destiny but he was just too tired to find any way out of this. His head swum with exhaustion and he felt dizzy and lightheaded from lack of sleep and food. Not to mention the pain in his body which seemed to increase from minute to minute.

He somehow desperately wished they would never arrive at the hospital wing, dreaded what would happen there, dreaded what they would find out, dreaded what his aunt and uncle would do to him afterwards, yet – at the same time he wished they would finally arrive and he could just rest. One corridor went into the next one and one minute passed into the next minute and he feared they would have to walk forever while his only wish was to just lay onto the floor beside his bed and to sleep.

Nevertheless he forced himself to take step after step. He could do this. He was used to this, it wasn't really new to him, he had dealt with such exhaustion before at the Dursley's when his uncle had denied him food for several days, had beaten him and he hadn't been able to sleep with all the pain, yet still had to do his daily works.

They finally reached the infirmary and Snape slowed down, pushed the dark brown double winged door open and stood in the doorway, waiting for Potter to enter before he closed the door behind him. He raised his eyebrow when he took in the even more worn out state of the boy. Maybe he should have used the floo. But then – no, there was no way of this. Potter surely had never before travelled by floo and he wasn't sure if it only would have just frightened the already nervous boy even more.

Better to deal with an exhausted boy, than with a panicking one.

"Ah, there you are, Severus." An energetic voice attracted their attention and Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office. "Thank you for bringing Mr. Potter." She added, smiling at Snape who just nodded in acknowledgement. She then gazed at the boy and she had to hold back a low groan when she took in his weak appearance. She was too much trained to let her feelings take the upper hand and so she just cast a stern look at the boy, but Snape knew her well enough to know there definitely _was _reason to worry. What indeed increased the concern he already felt since the – well – _conversation_ ... he'd had with Potter.

"If you would please sit onto that bed over there, Mr. Potter ..." She pointed to the large bed near the window to his left.

Snape, still never leaving his eyes off Potter, trying to ignore the fact that the boy was shaking all over when he looked towards the bed, motioned the boy forward when he just stood there, unsure, uncomfortable and casting a longing gaze at the double winged door behind them. He would not allow Potter to escape this situation. Not because he wished to make him even more suffer, but he was really worried by now about the state one of his Slytherins was in. Taking a step towards the boy he forced him onwards and Potter finally took a step backwards, towards the bed, to get away from the Potions Master, slowly and hesitantly, then another one.

Though he practically had to force the first few steps from Potter Snape got him walking towards the bed until he stood beside the piece of furniture, trembling from head to toe and his face nearly white.

"The bed, Mr. Potter, sit down, please." Madam Pomfrey called out, coming back from her office in a swift pace, holding a mahogany-coloured wand in her right hand.

Snape cast a quick glance at Potter when he heard a strange sound, not a cry, not really a groan, rather some sort of a choking noise, followed by the chattering of teeth and he lowered his head to his left when he noticed the brat trembling that bad that his teeth actually chattered. What he thought to be even worse were his arms and hands twitching and jerking every few seconds, while his eyes darted quickly and panicky from side to side as if to find any escape, his breathing much too fast and irregular for his liking.

Quickly he took another step towards Potter, just to ensure the boy that every escape route was blocked. "The bed, Potter." He said in a low but firm voice that left no room for contradictions. But he was caused to raise his eyebrow further when the boy just stood there, shaking his head continuously, still trembling violently and his emerald green eyes huge with fear.

"Don't be stupid, Mr. Potter." Madam Pomfrey said. "You surely will not be afraid of a ..." But she was cut off by Snape's hand which he slowly lifted into her direction, while he watched Potter further.

This damn Brat-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-Him-To-An-Early-Death did not eat even if he had to be hungry, and he was sure he _was_ hungry, he could see it in those damn emerald green eyes. He did not sleep in his bed even if he could see the tiredness in his eyes. He did not do anything that was supposed to comfort any human being. What had to take place that a child that was hungry by free will refused to eat? That a tired child did not sleep in a bed even if he had one? That a human being, a child, ignored every means of self-protection? Every survival instinct?

He meanwhile _was_ sure Potter had been beaten, definitely, and more than just once. And he was much too thin and small for his liking, too exhausted. He could not even talk or write even if he surely had visited primary school. And his relatives had allowed such. Whatever had happened, it had been going on for more than just a few days or weeks. And that left just one single thought.

The ones who had abused this boy, couldn't have been any others than the Dursley's themselves. What further meant that it had been for several years, as he now feared. For several years without any chance to escape.

Slowly, finally pulling all the pieces together, he knelt in front of the boy and he cast a really stern gaze into those still damn emerald green eyes.

"Now you listen to me, Potter." He began, and his voice was so low and calm that Poppy Pomfrey cast a curious look at him but kept her tongue. "You have absolutely nothing to fear from us. You are safe here and your aunt and uncle will never find out what happened here. None of us will tell them. You have my word, Potter."

Yet – the damn brat didn't react besides of the fact that he – again – retreated a step, pressing his back with a low hiss of pain against the wall behind him and Snape narrowed his eyes at him. The boy's back had hurt when he had made contact with the wall. He would keep that in mind. He even wondered if the boy had heard his words and he feared that he had fallen into some state of shock. Slowly and with concern in his eyes he shook his head while still watching the child, trying to hold this green eyes with his black ones, trying to find a point, any point, where he could reach through to the shaking mass in front of him. The boy was in a wild panic.

James Potter's son or not, no child should feel such fear and terror as this one in front of him did, at the last none of his Slytherins and slowly he lifted his hand and touched the small and trembling shoulders in an attempt to calm him down, heard the low whimper of fear, felt the stiffening that increased, felt the pointed bones under the black school robe as if there were no meat and not even skin beneath them, but he did not withdraw his hand, just his gaze got any darker as he watched painfully as Potter tried to regain a control he no longer had over his emotions.

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A hand on his shoulder cut through the brutality of his emotions and Harry instantly was wide awake, the flood of his emotions causing a sudden rush of adrenaline and his body responded to the terror he felt. He broke away instinctively, his body just as panicked as his mind, taking off in a sprint towards the door.

Snape saw Potter's body tense, then turn and run away and quickly he had his wand in his hand and cast a silent locking spell towards the double winged door of the infirmary before he hurriedly followed the boy to keep up with him not gripping his arm as he first had intended to, but just rounding him, standing in his way, blocking his route.

For a moment the boy just stood there, white as a ghost, shaking in his panic so badly, Snape didn't know how he was still on his feet, his entire body tense, shaking his head in a silent plea to let him go and Severus rarely had wanted to comfort one of his students as much as he did in that moment. Yet – he knew that he had to keep his composure, that he had to keep the upper hand, that he had to keep his strength and his authority. He could comfort him later, he even knew he had to, but not now. Now, in this moment, he had to lead the boy with a firm hand.

Seeing the look on Potter's face, his mouth half-open as he struggled to find words, Severus knew he would have to be very carefully.

Well, he always was carefully with students of whom he thought of being abused. He normally kept his desk between his students and himself when speaking to them or telling them off, even then keeping his hands lying still atop the wooden furniture, knowing that space was important to some of his Slytherins. And if this was not possible, then he always kept his arms behind his back or at his side, or folding them in front of his chest so they would not picture any danger. But somehow he felt, that would not be enough with Potter and for a moment he couldn't help wonder '_what exactly did they do to you?_' Yet – Snape did not really want to know, but knew he _had_ to know in order to help the child.

The terror that Madam Pomfrey felt building became too much for her and she found she couldn't watch the terrible scene any longer and took a step towards them, only to stop at once as Snape held up his hand towards her, stopping her, and she knew she should allow Severus to handle this situation. As usually.

Not every medi-witch would have stood aside and allow a teacher to handle an upset student in such a situation, but she as well knew that the head of Slytherin house had much more experience when it came to abused children. He knew what he was doing. So she kept her distance.

Snape had to suppress a sigh of relief as he noticed that Poppy kept her place, would not interfere, and his concentration returned to the boy in front of him fully. Yet – what happened next startled him nearly to the core.

The boy, retreating a small step, still with a slight shaking of his head, wrung his hands in front of him and with a voice rough from lack of use he whispered a barely audible "please" before he dropped to his knees in front of the professor.

Unsure if he had imagined the situation, but clearly hearing the boy's soft voice, laced with a desperation Severus had rarely heard in anyone's voice before, he nearly stopped breathing and looked down at him. That whispered, rough voice pleading so softly, so desperately that Snape's chest squeezed painfully at the single word and he had to stop himself from moving to take the boy into his arms. Instead he slowly lowered himself onto one knee next to Potter as he took in the boy's pale, shaking form and his shaking hands.

So the brat _had_ a voice, he _was_ able to speak. At least in a desperate situation like this.

"Please." Harry repeated in his rough whisper, still wringing his hands together in front of his chest.

Snape suddenly felt his own worry increase to a point he barely had felt for another person in a very long time and if he could have done so, then he would have removed all the boy's fear and pain just so he wouldn't have to watch this any further, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Poppy turning away, no longer capable to watch them further.

The expression on Snape's face was still absolutely unreadable, as always, and only the horrified look in his eyes betrayed his true feelings as he questioned himself what had just happened. He was sure the boy had not lied to him, that he really was unable to speak – in a normal situation at least. But the fact that he had done so now, proved not only _how_ desperate the child in front of him surely was, but that it was not a matter of a physical muteness but a mental disorder.

He still was kneeling at eyelevel with his student and he felt all his normally so perfect defences shatter, every shield he normally had in place to keep his emotions down drop as he watched the boy who still was shaking in pure terror and panic. He suppressed to close his eyes for a moment as his own emotions run through him, as his own mind screamed at him to take the child into his arms and do anything that was needed to comfort him.

Instead he once again lifted his hand and touched the small shaking shoulders, once again noticing that the shoulder he touched should not be as small as it was. He had touched Draco's shoulder from time to time during the years, and even if his godson was not as sturdy as were Crab and Goyle, even if he was slender, he was not as bony and skeletal as Potter was. That was not the shoulder of an eleven year old, it was the shoulder of a small child.

"I know that – whatever it is – your family had caused it." He said, willing his voice to be as slow, calm and gentle as possible. "And I know that you fear they will find out you told someone. I know that you fear their wrath. But as I told you before, Potter, they will not find out. None of us will tell them anything that happened within this walls of Hogwarts. So I expect you to collect your sense and do trust us. Calm yourself down. Take slow breaths and try to calm yourself down."

Harry flinched back as the Potions Professor placed his hand at his shoulder, his eyes growing wide with his fear and for a moment he was back at Privet Drive with his uncle. He held his breath for a moment before he nearly gave a startled scream away, yet – somehow, against all previous experiences in his life, the touch of that hand began to convince him that he was safe here, for the moment at least and he tried to follow his professor's lead.

Snape recognized his young student at least _tried_ to calm himself somehow at his words, tried to even his jagged and irregular breathing out and he slowly nodded, noticing the strength this boy tried to show even if it did not work as he wished it would. Yet - maybe the boy was not as much alike his father as he had thought. At least he tried to show the strength he expected from all of his Slytherins, tried to show even more strength than he could expect from some of his older students in such a situation.

"That is much better, Potter." He said anyway. "Just calm yourself down and we will sort this out. We will find a way to go on without further trouble for you from your relatives, I promise."

However, while Snape was talking to the boy, was gaining his attention, or at least trying to do so, Madam Pomfrey had been able to cast the diagnostic spells with her wand over him which would monitor his problem, but line by line the words appeared at the parchment she held in her left hand. A list that got longer and longer and when they finally stopped she was nearly as pale as the boy himself.

Quickly she placed the parchment aside and turned, leaving a questioning looking professor and a still trembling boy behind.

When she came back, she held a small goblet with a dark blue liquid in her right and handed it to Snape, wordlessly pointing at Potter.

Snape immediately recognized the liquid even without smelling at the goblet's content and he cast a questioning gaze at the woman that run the hospital wing since more than thirty years now. Her face was pale and severe, nearly angry, and her blue eyes flashed daggers. He slowly nodded, giving the parchment at the far bedside table a quick glance. He could not read what was written there, yet, he knew that the list had to be quite long, considering the length of the parchment. And he knew Poppy. She was too professional to allow her feelings to take the upper hand of her, yet, just this seemed to happen at this very moment.

So he concentrated back onto Potter in front of him, and slowly he reached out his hand with the goblet. "I wish you to drink this, Potter." He said, still forcing himself to keep his normal sarcasm out of his voice. "It is a potion that will help you to relax, that will help you to calm down and that will ease your pain."

He did not dare to tell him that the potion simply would set him to sleep, and for a few disturbing moments, when Potter began to panic again, shaking his head, Snape nearly feared that he might have to choose between actually and bodily wrestling the boy in order to get this over with, or simply letting him suffer.

"We can do this the easy way, Potter, and you drink this freely, or we can do this the hard way, and I will force you to. It is your choice, Potter." He said in his low voice, hating the fact that he had to do this. "But either way, you will drink this. Now!" The last word was a sharp command, definitely louder than his words before and the boy in front of him threw his arms up in his fear to protect himself from the blow he awaited.

But to his great relive Potter lowered them at once, slowly, but he lowered them and he really reached for the goblet before he had to force him to do so, even if it was only out of fear. Yet, his hands shook that bad, he wasn't able to hold the goblet without spilling half of it's contents and Snape, gritting his teeth, had no other choice than helping the brat to drink.

As if he ever – EVER – would have done such! Helping a student to drink! HE! The scary Potions Master that he was!

He just was glad that none of the other students could see him right now!

Slowly, sip by sip, the goblet emptied, yet Snape forced himself to be patient. He was just about to gain Potter's trust. He would lose it, would he push the boy now and he had to suppress a low snort. Patience. He and patience. Hadn't it been that what Minerva had begged him for at lunch? To be patient with the boy?

Well, he was, despite the fact that he was no one to normally be patient.

He was able to show patience, of course, it came along when working as a teacher, when working with abused children, and much more important, when acting as a spy, especially when acting as a spy against the Dark Lord. But that did not automatically meant that he liked it, nor that he normally showed it.

Yet – Minerva had been wrong in _one _point. Potter surely was not homesick.

His attention was brought back to Potter when the boy in front of him began to slump, when his trembling grip at the goblet loosened, and he took the mug out of the young ones hand before it could fall to the ground and reached it to Poppy, still waiting a few more seconds until he noticed the boy's body dropping to the floor.

Easily he took hold at Potter's bony shoulders and ignoring the low, half-conscious whimper of fear he draw his other hand beneath the knees and lifted the half asleep boy into his arms and carried him back to the bed, placed him onto the white sheet, nearly shocked by the far too little weight he had gathered in his arms.

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"Thank you, Severus." Madam Pomfrey finally managed to say, leaning herself for a moment at the nightstand and running her hand over her face. "You know, I can handle all sorts of students, even those with homesickness and lovesickness. I manage even those who throw a tantrum. But such? Severus, who did this?"

Snape was close to ask 'who did _what_?' but he kept his tongue and instead of this grabbed the parchment that laid at the nightstand beside the bed his student lay in, reading the list, his face growing darker and darker with each line, while Madam Pomfrey meanwhile waved her wand again over Potter and one by one undressed the boy.

After reading the parchment he did not need to hear the horror in her voice for to know what he would see when Madam Pomfrey finally managed a low "Severus!" and he looked at his student.

However, he had been prepared to see a skinny and bony Potter with a few bruises, but by _what_ he saw he clenched his hands into fists. Every single bone was clearly visible under the pale and yet scarred skin littered with bruises, cuts and burns in different shapes of healing so that he easily could count every single rib over a sunken stomach, could easily notice that at least two ribs were broken.

Now, without the clothing which had hid the most, his arms and legs were clearly visibly practically only bones, laying at the bed like sticks, and his hips were jutting out grotesquely. There wasn't any meat on the boy anywhere and Snape growled darkly while his gaze wandered to Potter's hands.

Even now, with the sleeping drought, the thin fingers trembled slightly. Yet – Snape saw that they were strangely distorted. Slowly he took one of the thin wrists in his hand, carefully avoiding the injuries that run round the entire wrist, easily recognizing them for what they were, scars caused by ropes, and he seethed in pure rage. This damn muggles had fixed the boy while they had beaten him!

His gaze went back to the distorted fingers. Bones that once had been broken and were not set rightly before healing. And it wasn't just one finger that once had been broken, he noticed while silently cursing under his breath. So that had been the reason why Potter had hid his hands beneath his robes all the time.

With pure anger in his face he carefully turned the boy onto his stomach, for a moment nearly fearing he could break the frail body, and when he saw the many scars and bruises, all the cuts and burns which covered his student's back and shoulders almost completely, his face went even angrier.

"You know, Severus ..." Madam Pomfrey finally managed to say. "Just a few weeks or even days more, and the boy would be dead?"

Snape nodded. He knew.

"I have to re-break them, Severus." Madam Pomfrey whispered, pointing at Potter's fingers. "As some of his other bones."

Snape again nodded wordlessly, gripping one of the cleaning potions from the table beside the bed and a piece of fabric and Madam Pomfrey knew that he was just too shocked for being capable to accomplish any spoken words at the moment. With a gentleness she seldom saw from the normally cold-hearted and sarcastic Potions Master he began to clean the many cuts and burns on the boy's back and shoulders.

Of course she knew that Severus was not as cold-hearted as he normally showed. She had seen him more than once sitting beside one of those beds here when some of his Slytherins were injured. And it was not the first time that he even helped healing them. With a slight smile she remembered when Antonin Harvest had been at the brink of death after a stupid Midnight duel in the hallways. Severus and she had worked hand in hand to save the Slytherin fifth year that night and that for she just knew Severus was a just as adequate healer as she herself was. Of course he was. One could not gain his mastery in potions without a medical education.

Yet – it was a rare sight and she was not used to it. But a whatever unfamiliar sight it was, she was glad that he did. Even with his help they would take long enough to do this. And besides of this, she had to admit that she was glad he was present with his calmness and with his serenity. She knew it would keep herself calm and serene.

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It was nearly dark outside and Madam Pomfrey had long ago lit the torches when Severus noticed the tremors beginning to shake the small form of Potter. He had cleaned the wounds on the boy's back and had covered them with healing potions before they had turned him onto his back so he could tend to the bruises and injuries he had on his front.

"Do you have any time, Poppy?" Snape asked in a low voice. "He's waking. We need another sleeping drought." He explained when she cast a curious gaze at him.

"In a moment." She answered, her voice tired. "I'll finish bandaging his wrist." And about two minutes later she left the bed and went for her office to gather the dark blue potion.

Snape was about to cover one nasty gash that run over the boy's now nearly mended ribs with the healing potion when he felt the thin body stiffen under his touch and swearing silently he placed the soft fabric aside, bracing himself to restrain a child that woke just too early from his sleep and that was in just too much pain.

With a low whimper of pain and fear the boy tried to back away but he was far too weak to do so and instead of this he tried to curl unto his side, tried to curl into a small ball to somehow protect himself.

"Easy, Potter." Snape ordered in a low and gentle voice, laying a calming hand onto a small, trembling shoulder, fearing the boy would just reopen some of the fresh mended wounds and bones. "Stay on your back, child. Madam Pomfrey is about to gather another potion for you so you can go back to sleep. Lie still and try to stay calm."

Without any success.

Potter still tried to curl onto his side, his breathing getting hitched and irregular, trying to get more force into his efforts, gritting his teeth with the pain while his fear overtook the upper hand.

"Come on, Potter, calm yourself down. I know you can do this." Snape laid a bit more force into his hand, hoping that this damn, stupid and slow woman hurried up with the potion. He really did not wish Potter to wake up entirely. Yet, the boy was close to just doing so and Snape paled as the small body under his hands arched upwards in pain and the boy held his breath.

The boy's whimpers grew louder as he felt Harry's back arching.

Cursing silently he grasped a small vial from his robe and uncorked the bottle one-handed while he still tried with his other hand to somehow restrain the child. He did not think it the best idea to give Potter a pain relieving potion added to the sleeping draught Poppy would hopefully bring around soon, but he knew of no better option and gritting his teeth himself he poured some drops onto Potter's lips. That just would have to do it. He did not dare to give him more, since the small and much too thin body was already overflowed with potions. It would at least provide some ease.

Where in all names of Merlin's beard was Poppy with that potion? Yet – he knew that maybe not even two or three minutes had passed since she left. It was a really strange thing with time. When you needed the time to go on, it was as slow moving as a snail and you could go crazy by waiting for anything to happen. But when you was in a rush of adrenaline then time somehow seemed to gather at speed and minutes run by in a speed matching a herd of centaurs.

Slowly but finally the small body under his hands began to slightly relax and the arched back of the boy went down to lay back at the mattress, but he was still holding his breath with the pain.

"Now come on, Potter, breath." Snape coaxed the boy on. "Just calm down and go on breathing. I know you can do this." But his only result was, that the boy draw even more air into his lungs just to hold his breath further then.

"No, Potter!" Snape demanded, still in a calm voice, even if he felt anything else than calmness. "Do not draw any more air. Release your breath!" He wanted to shout at Potter, wanted to force him doing as he wished, but he just knew that wouldn't do any good and so he forced himself to stay calm instead.

When Madam Pomfrey finally came back she paled at the sight before her and immediately placed the goblet at the boy's nearly blue lips, but Snape shook his head. Would they try to pour the potion down the boy's throat now he just would choke on it and spit it out. They had to wait until the pain relieving potion had taken enough effort and the boy had calmed down. A bit at least.

But Harry just draw yet once again even more air into his already overfilled lungs just to hold it there and Snape felt close to panic himself.

"Not, child!" He managed to say in a still calm but demanding voice. "Don't! Release your breath. The pain will go away. But release your breath!"

And this time the boy really released at least some of his breath before holding it again, fighting to keep it at that point and not to gasp for more air again. But even if it was such a small amount that Snape feared this really would take hours, he was relieved. At least the boy seemed to hear him, and at least he seemed to understand him. And he seemed to be willing to do as he was told, considering the struggle to not inhale again.

"That's it now, child." He soothed. "That's much better. Now calm down and try it again, release more air! Breathe out!"

He noticed the struggle for the boy to become harder, the small hands going into fists with despair and he placed his hand onto the small chest, carefully performing a slight pressure. "Calm down, child! You have enough air in your lungs, you will not suffocate. There is no need to inhale further. Just release your breath so you can draw one with fresh air."

Of course that was not true and Snape knew it. The air the boy still held in his lungs held no oxygen, but he was not willing to tell this to the boy.

Reacting to the slight pressure on his chest Harry let out another small breath before catching it there and holding it again, yet Snape was pleased.

"That was well done, child." He whispered, wiping away a tear of desperation from the boy's face with the thumb of his free hand. "Just one more time, Potter. Come on, you can win this fight."

Even if patience was not one of his qualities he forced himself to wait, just increasing the pressure onto Potter's chest a bit and again the boy seemed to struggle a few seconds but finally released his breath entirely.

"Good boy!" Snape himself released the breath he didn't knew he was holding. "Now you can inhale."

The boy did, hastily, as if it would be his last breath and again Snape slightly increased the pressure at the boy's chest which he had eased up a moment before. "Slowly now, Potter!" He ordered. "Release it again and take calm and slow breathes. All will be fine, I promise. We have all the time of the world and there is no need for haste. Just try to relax and take calm and slow breathes."

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It was long after curfew when Snape finally closed the last jar before placing it back at the nightstand and he was shocked to find his hands shaking. His hands never shook!

The pain this boy must have suffered, for years, the pain he must have endured at the hands of his own family. How could they? How could anyone beat a child to a bloody and broken mass? How could anyone deny a child food to a point of death? How could anyone actually hold a child down and slowly push hot items onto the body? How could anyone abuse – no, torture, Snape thought, a child like this? And for a split second he couldn't help picturing a starved and scrawny, a sobbing and trembling body being fixed and beaten, burned, tortured ...

With still shaking hands and a rage he hadn't felt in a long time he laid the supplies aside and sighed deeply, his dark eyes lowering at Madam Pomfrey.

"Are you able to handle this alone from here, Poppy?" He asked in a low but dangerous voice and Madam Pomfrey nodded. Now that Potter was at least asleep once again and stable, the most injuries healed, she of course would be able to handle this alone.

"You will not do anything stupid, Severus, now will you?" She asked.

"Surely not." Snape answered, his voice still dangerous low. "But I will not allow stupid muggles to nearly kill a wizarding child just because of their ignorance. Nor would I allow them to abuse any child as they have done." And with a final and cold glare he turned and left the hospital wing, heading towards his office in the dungeons.

He would use the floo network to travel to Arabella and from there he would pay a visit to number four Privet Drive. He did not need the permission of Dumbledore. Potter was a student of his house and he could act as he thought it fitting. And that he would do. He knew the only thing Dumbledore would have wanted to, was that he would not kill them.

When he first recognized that Potter had been beaten, had been abused – tortured, he had been worried that this situation had been really bad. But now he knew, no matter how bad things were, they always could get worse. And this here, this was worse. What the hell did they think? Did they try to kill Potter? Their own nephew? He had hated him in the first place for being Harry Potter, for being James Potter's son, maybe he still did so, but not even he ... no ... no child should be treated like this.

What the hell did Dumbledore think when he left the boy at this damn muggle's doorstep? Just as well he could have personally brought him to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord at least would have been more human than those creatures had been. He would not have tortured a child like that for several years. He would have just killed him.

"Severus?" A low voice asked, disturbing his thoughts and Snape lifted his head to see Minerva McGonagall leaving the great hall just as he passed the entrance. "You do not still growl over Potter, do you, Severus?" She asked with her eyebrow raised.

Snape gave a low snort. Potter was not in her house, even if she had hoped he would be. He was in _his_ house and he could growl over him whenever he wished. But then he gritted his teeth and shook his head. It surely did no good to allow his anger to be directed at his colleagues.

"I can assure you, no, Minerva. I indeed have found new victims to growl at." Snape answered.

"I do hope it is not another poor student, Severus?" McGonagall asked in a nearly sarcastic tone of voice.

"Of course not. I rather thought to let my anger be directed at some guardians."

"Your anger? At some guardians?" McGonagall got curious. "Whose? What happened?" She asked.

"At Potter's." Snape answered darkly, his voice still filled with anger. "They beat and starved him nearly to death and Merlin knows how much longer he would have survived there."

"Where is the boy now, Severus? Is he taken care of?" McGonagall's voice as well as her face showed the concern he himself felt and somehow he was glad that he had met her on his way. As strict as Minerva was, she was one of his colleagues who really cared about the students. And not only about the students in her own house but about all of them within Hogwarts.

"He is in the hospital wing and Poppy is looking after him." He answered, his voice much calmer now. There was no need to tell her that he himself had spend several hours in the hospital wing. He just would destroy his good reputation being a cold-hearted and scaring Potions Master that caused nearly every first year student to burst into tears. "I am just about to spend a visit at the Dursley's." He said instead.

"You should go to Albus first, Severus." McGonagall suggested in a severe voice. "The headmaster should know about this. About Potter and about the Dursley's and your visit there."

"You do not really believe I would care what Albus has to say in this matter, Minerva? Albus has the ability to interfere and twist occasions as he wishes to, what I will not allow in this case as one of my students had been abused and tortured, during years to say, by those abominable, damn, rude, ill-bred and ..."

"Severus!" Minerva gasped. Seldom had she heard such a speech from Severus who may be cold and sarcastic but never really that ...

"... pigs that deserve to be punished and I will be the one who ..."

"They will be, Severus, but you cannot ..."

"I cannot what, Minerva? I can and I will ..."

A loud pop interrupted their discussion and both turned to see one of the house elves, big eyed and with an important expression on its face. "Mistress Pomfrey asks Master Snape to quickly come back to the hospital wing, Sir." The house elf announced with a squeaky voice. "Mistress Pomfrey asks Master Snape to make all haste ..."

Swearing loudly Snape turned on his heels and run towards the corridor he has just came from, followed by McGonagall.

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When Snape finally arrived at the hospital wing, worrying what might have happened, he was greeted by a sight he'd had just a few hours ago. A small Potter, lying viciously trembling in his bed, trying to curl into a small ball and holding his breath with the pain, while Madam Pomfrey tried to restrain him on his back, trying to convince him to breath, a desperate look on her face and quickly he made his way towards the bed that seemed much too large for this small body lying in it.

"Now, none of this again, Potter." Snape said despite his rather harsh words in a low and gentle voice when he approached the bed and he again laid one hand onto the boy's shoulder to restrain him from curling over onto his side and one hand onto the small chest, performing a slight pressure there.

"Just release your breath, Potter, as you have done earlier." He ordered in a low and calming voice before he gazed at the medi-which. "Did you give him a pain relieving potion now?" Snape asked in a still low voice and Madam Pomfrey snorted.

"Of course not, Severus. The boy is already overflowed with potions and the sleeping draught would do, if only ..."

Without listening further he took the small vial from his cloak and uncorked it, pouring a few drops onto Potter's lips again, ignoring Madam Pomfrey's protests, concentrating onto his student in front of him instead.

The boy should have slept the entire night by the amount of sleeping potion he had in his system by now and he did not really understand why he woke every few hours. How could the boy heal like this? He needed the sleep and he needed more sleep than just three hours. As before he noticed the boy beginning to slowly relax even if he still held his breath.

"Now concentrate onto your breathing, child." He demanded in his most low and kind tone he could muster. "Release your breath so you can draw in fresh air. Just do it in small amounts as you have done last time. You can do this, I know it, because you have already done so earlier."

Yet – this time it seemed an eternity until the boy finally obeyed and began to exhale in small amounts just to immediately draw in air every time to refill his lungs to their full capacity and Snape could bodily feel the panic the boy was drowning in. Without any further hesitation he seated himself onto the bed and pulled the boy's upper body into his arms, settling him with his back against his chest and folding his arms in front of the boy, securing the small hands in his own.

Once more he had to suppress a dark growl of anger as he felt the child's bony back leaning against his chest, feeling the bony wrists in his hand as he tried to restrain the child. He would just frighten the child even more with his growl, and again he was glad that none of his students could see him just now, supporting a first year, he!

Minerva stood near the bed, watching his colleague with a nearly shocked expression.

That was not Severus Snape she saw. It just couldn't be Severus Snape!

Never ever before had she seen him like that. Normally he scared every single student with his dark growls, his loathing gazes and sarcastic comments when they just dared to walk past him and now he was speaking to Potter in a low, calming and even soothing, gentle voice, was holding the boy in a careful and securing way to his chest she never had seen him done before. And he had called him even ... child! Who ever this was, it was never Severus Snape!

Snape meanwhile had to force himself to remain calm as the startled cry of fear run through the large room when he had lifted the boy's upper body into his arms. Yet, at least Potter had released his breath. Although only to immediately draw in a new gasp of air, again holding it, but he had at least released the first one.

"Concentrate onto my breathing, child!" He ordered in his still low and gentle tone, pressing the small and thin, trembling body against his chest. "And then try to breath in the same way as I do. I know how difficult it is, but I know you can do this. Just breath out! Now!" The last word was definitely a command. A gentle one, but it was a command and the boy finally did as he was asked for.

"Now you see, child?" He asked, his voice satisfied. "That's much better now. Just continue like this and you will be fine."

"This is not Severus Snape, is it, Poppy?" Minerva whispered into Madam Pomfrey's ears. "What did you do to our dark Potions Master? Did you give him a draught to change into a gentle teacher?"

Snape cast a dark glance at her and he would have growled at her darkly, would he not still have held the frightened boy within his arms, and Minerva chuckled lightly. But immediately she got serious again. She had seen the state Potter was in and she herself was shocked to the bone. She hadn't believed Severus when he had told her earlier that his relatives had starved and beaten the boy close to death, had thought him to exaggerate. But now, seeing it with her own eyes she had to fight back tears.

She had told Dumbledore to not leave this boy with those muggles, all those years ago. She had even begged him not to do so, but he had not listened to her, had announced that this surely was the best to do. And now? The boy had been the one who had paid deeply for the headmaster's wrong judgement.

"What will happen now, Poppy?" She asked and her voice trembled slightly. "Will he recover fully?"

"With Severus as his head of house, Minerva, I guess he will. Severus is one of the few here who will understand what had to be done and is hard enough to lead the boy into the right direction. Most of the other teachers, you included, Minerva, would not have the cold will that is needed here. You only would pity him, where the boy now needs someone to lead him. And Potter already began to trust Severus' demanding and severe ways."

With a heavy sigh Minerva nodded. Of course, surely Poppy was right. She really would be too soft now and too coddling, would give Potter what he desired instead of what he needed. The boy now needed a hand that led him, never mind whereto. "I guess it took some time to deal with all those bruises and injuries, Poppy, I think you are rather tired."

"Severus helped me, Minerva. He has attended to the most of the injuries so I could concentrate onto the broken bones."

Again Minerva cast a glance at his colleague, a judging one this time. Severus had any healing abilities? That was new to her, yet, she was glad. When the poor boy was in his house, he would be able to judge the boy's state correctly. Nevertheless she shook her head. This night she had seen Severus within an entirely new light. And for truth to be told, she liked this new Severus much more than the grumpy one.

After Snape had finally managed to calm the boy enough and Poppy had finally poured the sleeping potion down his throat, Harry slowly got limp in the Potions Master's arms, fell back asleep and Snape carefully left the bed, placing the fragile body back onto the mattress before placing the coverlet over the thin form.

"Do you have any explanation as to why this potion did never work any longer than three hours on Potter?" He finally asked Madam Pomfrey, but she just shook her head. She really did not have an answer to this.

"You know that Potter should sleep far more than three hours without such a straining disruption. This here, is no healing sleep, yet I really do not dare to give him anything stronger. Not as weak as he is, not as thin as he is and not with as much potions as he already has in his system."

"Well, now that we know the potion works just for three hours with him, I could give him a further dose every time shortly before he wakes. It will not be the best option but the only one I have at the moment."

"Well, Poppy. Then now I will leave. I have something to deal with." Snape meant, a dark glint in his black eyes.

"After we went to the headmaster, Severus!" Minerva interfered. "And after we have spoken to Albus I will accompany you, Severus. The boy is not in my house, but I am the deputy headmistress. And I own the right to do so, Severus, so I will hear no word against that!"

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Snape and Minerva, both have a conversation with the headmaster, concerning the Dursleys._

_The question appears if Harry will be able to actually attend to Hogwarts._

_Draco Malfoy meanwhile is about to make his own plans, concerning Harry Potter._

**Added author's note**

as I knew it would be, this chapter as well as the last one was not easy to perform and thus ...

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you


	6. will there be a way?

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ...

And yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"Well, Poppy. Then now I will leave. I have something to deal with." Snape meant, a dark glint in his black eyes._

_"After we went to the headmaster, Severus!" Minerva interfered. "And after we have spoken to Albus, I will accompany you, Severus. The boy is not in my house, but I am the deputy headmistress. And I own the right to do so, Severus, so I will hear no word against that!"_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter six**

**Will there be a way?**

"Tell me you did not know what they did to the boy during those years, Albus!" Snape was in rage, standing in front of the headmaster's desk, leaning his hands onto the wooden surface. He had told Albus the entire story, yet – the headmaster had not shown any reaction. The only thing that showed him the headmaster had recognized what he said was the normally twinkling in his bright eyes that was gone now.

"No, Severus. I did not know what they did. At least I did not know that they really would go that far and harm the boy. I of course knew that he would not be as pampered and as spoiled as you all the years claimed him to be. But I was sure he was safe with them."

"Oh, of course, Albus. He just was safe. Safe from the Death Eaters. But let me tell you that even they would had been more humanly than his relatives were. And he was not safe from all the beatings he got there. He was not safe from the lack of food when they nearly starved him to death."

"The boy will recover, I guess, won't he, Severus?" Albus asked.

Severus snorted. "I think yes, at least I hope so. Well, I am sure he will. At least physically. But it will take some time." He said, annoyed at himself for his short-sentenced answers. Such was not his style and he clenched his hands into fists to get back control over himself. "I do not really know how long it will take for him to recover enough for being able to attend classes. Potter is far too small and scrawny to give him full doses of healing potions and there are just too many injuries for the potions and his body to deal with, so his injuries will heal much more slowly than they normally would. And there may be lasting damage which we may not be able to prevent. I do not know yet." He straightened up and shook his head in frustration at Albus. The headmaster seemed entirely untouched by his words.

"A few days later, Albus, and there would not have been any chances for us to save him. And even if he may be safe now, even if we may be able to heal him, physically, you know fully well that – considering the treatment he endured and the resultant damage done to his body – mentally, he will take months, maybe years for him to recover from this ordeal. If he even will ever recover fully from what those muggles had done. Which I personally highly doubt, Albus."

But still the headmaster sat in his chair behind his desk, steepling his fingers together and the gaze of his blue eyes was calm and steady. Without his usual twinkling, but calm and steady, and Snape couldn't help but again leaning at the desk towards his old friend as he noticed that the older wizard did not seem to care. "Just a few days later." He repeated and his voice was a dark growl. "And there would not have been any chances for us to save Potter at all! Do you even realize what I mean by this, Albus? Potter would be dead!"

"Surely I know you can be very protective on your young snakes, Severus. But I am sure you are overreacting now, don't you? It surely cannot be that bad."

Severus cast a cold and dark glance towards the headmaster and was about to say something to give his rage an outlet when Minerva shook her head. "No Albus." She answered instead of Severus. "He is not overreacting. I have visited the hospital wing. I have seen the boy, Albus, and it is a miracle to me how he had been able to stand and walk the past two days, not to mention to survive in the first place. Severus and Poppy had both worked for hours to save the boy. And for to be true, it is just alarming that none of us besides of Severus noticed the kind of state the boy was in. Maybe we really should change some things here at Hogwarts so we could notice such alarming signs earlier in future. And now I wish to apologize, but I intent to accompany Severus when he visits the boy's relatives."

"None of you will do such ..." Albus Dumbledore began but he was interrupted by two angry shouts.

"Albus ...!"

"How can you, headmaster ...!"

"At least not now. Both of you please calm down and gather some sense. First, it is best to wait until both of you are cooled down a bit so I can be sure the Dursleys will survive. And second, I am sure you both agree it is the best to wait until we know more of what exactly happened at Privet Drive and how the boy will recover before we do anything."

"You do not think to let them away without punishment, do you?" Snape asked, his eyes narrowed at Dumbledore.

"Of course not, Severus. I just wish to ensure that by the time the Dursleys will be punished, we know everything there is to know."

"I think Potter's injuries and his starving appearance are talking for themselves." McGonagall murmured, loud enough for both to hear.

Dumbledore cast her a long and stern look along his nose as if to consider his next words.

But Snape was quicker than him and he went towards Minerva. "I guess the headmaster wishes to say he will wait until it is sure Potter will survive." He said in a calm but cold voice.

Dumbledore nodded slightly and for the first time in their conversation Severus could see something like grief and sorrow in those eyes. "That is exactly what I wish to be ensured before I will allow you to take any actions."

Snape turned back towards Dumbledore in a swift move and glared at him. "On one condition, Albus." He said and his voice was low and calm.

"And this would be, Severus?"

"As Potter is in my house, you will allow me to handle the situation with Potter's health as well as with his relatives on my own as I see fit."

"As long as I can be sure you do not end up in Azkaban, Severus."

"What kind of fool do you take me for, Albus?" Severus growled.

He gave a short nod and turned sharply to leave the headmaster's office, not understanding why Albus did not seem to care for Potter's wellbeing and he wondered if the older wizard would have acted otherwise would Potter have been sorted into the house of Gryffindor as Albus silently had hoped.

But then – no, that was impossible. Albus had a special liking for his Gryffindors, yes, but he cared for all students, never mind which house they were in, even for the Slytherins, maybe even more for the Slytherins than for the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, because he cared for Severus more than for any other teachers. But, so why not for Potter? Or did he care and just did not want to show it? But then – that was not like Albus. Why would he not show his care for the boy he always held so precious?

Albus eyed Severus as he turned and left. Yes, that was the one thing about Severus that he admired the most. While others thought the man to be a dark and tough dungeons bat, cold-hearted and without feelings - Albus knew the real Severus Snape, the one that cared about all of his students. About all of them, even about those he did not like personally.

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In two dormitories meanwhile children were awake.

One was the Slytherin dormitory from the first years boys, Malfoy keeping the others busy with wild speculations why neither the Potions Master nor Potter had been seen since lunch, a small package laying at the table in front of him, a small package containing a rather large letter and a small phial with a dark, nearly black fluid in it that seemed to shimmer in the light of the torches and Malfoy, having a strange glee on his face and in his eyes as he watched the dark fluid shimmer.

The second was the Gryffindor dormitory from the first years boys, Hermione Granger casting a silencing spell around her and the bed she was sitting on before she shook the red haired boy to wake him.

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"May I have a word with you, Minerva?" Snape asked as they walked past the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office and McGonagall nodded, easily guessing what it was Snape wanted to discuss. "Of course, Severus." She answered brusquely when she followed him down into the dungeons and into his living area.

"During lunch you told me that Potter did not speak, Minerva." Snape said after he had ordered his house elf to bring them tea for two from the kitchens.

"Yes, Severus." McGonagall answered. "He did not use the spell to transfigure the fir needle. He tried it with just the flick of his wand. I think – as many other students which are raised by muggles and there for fear magic - he ..."

"No, Minerva." Snape interrupted her. "I dare doubt that Potter fears using magic. Today he blocked me using legilimens. When I tried to break into his mind."

"You tried to ..." Minerva gasped. "How could you, Severus? How ..."

"Your house is a safe house, Minerva." Snape once again interrupted her. "You do not need such – _tricks_. Your students trusts you from the very first beginning and your students has grown up well protected and loved at home when they enter your house." He took a sip of his tea before he continued. "The same I cannot say from mine. Many of the old Slytherin students are Death Eaters, free or imprisoned. And those erstwhile Slytherins are now the parents and other family members of the students I now have in my house and under my care. And belief me, Minerva, Potter is not the first mistreated student I have in my house. Even if he is the worst I ever saw, I have to admit. Not even the Death Eaters beat their children as worse as this uncle of Potter did with this boy. Nevertheless, everyone of them refuse to admit in the first place that they are mistreated at home because they fear their parents will be informed."

"I guess I know what you want to say, Severus, and I bid you my apologies." Minerva answered in a calmer tone now. She often had guessed that some Slytherin students had a harsh life at home with Death Eaters as a family and at school as well with all the mistrust from the other houses. Yet, she never had thought about child abuse and hearing such from Severus himself was even worse. Imagining the dark and cold Potions Master as an understanding – not to mention caring – teacher ...

She guessed that sometimes Severus needed to resort to such _tricks_ as legilimens. "But when it is not fear of using magic, Severus, and not homesickness as well, as I am now sure it is not, what ..."

"Potter is not able to speak, Minerva." Snape answered the unspoken question when Minerva stopped midsentence.

For a moment the older witch gazed at the younger wizard. "What do you mean by this, Severus?" She asked, her words coming slowly.

"Just what I said, Minerva. Potter is not able to speak. He cannot use his voice. He does hear, and he does understand, but he cannot speak. What is exactly the reason why I asked you to have a word with you."

Minerva sat in the armchair near the fire – yet a shiver run down her spine and she shook her head. "But ... Severus ... how ..." She was not able to really voice what thoughts stumbled through her mind too fast to grip just one of them and she just gazed at him, a look of shock in her face.

"It is as I told, Minerva." Severus assured her. "What is exactly the reason I tried legillimens instead of waiting if he would open up to me once he had gained some trust towards me as I normally would do with other students in such a case. And what is worse, he is incapable of using sign language and of writing either. I have tried this options as well."

Minerva now really sat in her armchair, gasping for breath. That was just unbelievable. How could such be? How ... closing her eyes for a brief moment she leaned back, shaking her head.

"Teaching him how to write will not be an over immense problem." Severus finally said. "Nor teaching him using sign language. And I know that it is possible to use speechless magic. Yet – can a child, a first-year, learn such? Will he be able to keep up with classes?"

Minerva watched him for a few moments, remembering the boy concentrating onto a spell that he knew he could not voice and recognizing he had tried to do just that – using speechless magic. And still pale with what she had just heard she pulled herself together. "Normally I would say no, Severus." She finally answered in a still shaken but firm voice. "But you said ... the boy blocked you when you tried to use legillimens. I would not have thought such possible either, Severus. He seems to have an extremely strong magical state of mind. I really cannot answer you this question. You only can try to teach him and see if he is able to."

Severus nodded thoughtfully. "There is more, Minerva." He finally continued. "I am not entirely sure the Dursleys sent him to a primary school at all. Maybe to hide their mistreatments."

"Unfortunately I have to agree." The older witch said. She was beyond any shock now and that for was able to focus onto this task much quicker than she had been able before.

"What means Potter has to learn much more than just how to use a quill and ink." Severus growled darkly. "And as you surely will notice I cannot teach him all that he will have to catch up with on my own. May I ask for your help with that?"

"Of course, Severus. You should know that. If there is a way he can attend Hogwarts, that is."

"I will make sure he can." Severus answered, nearly as surprised at himself as was Minerva.

"You surprise me, Severus." She said. "You will support a Potter?"

"No matter whose son he is, he is a Slytherin now, Minerva, and that for I am responsible for him. And besides, no child should endure such an abuse, such a torture as Potter had. What will happen if he has to leave Hogwarts now? He either has to go back to his relatives, or he will be sent to any other institution. Either way I will not tolerate. If he is sent back to his relatives, he would not survive a week there. If he is sent to any other institution, I am sure they will not be able to handle him as well as we could. You just have to think at the Dark Lord. However, I am already familiar with abused children and I know what has to be done. And I am able to do what has to be done. I am sure we will find a way to keep Potter at Hogwarts."

"Well, Severus." Minerva nodded. "In this case, you have my assistance."

"I thank you, Minerva." Snape said, bowing his head into her direction. "But you should know from the beginning that this will be no easy task."

"I do know this already, Severus. And it will be even more difficult for us as I guess you will not involve any other teachers to it so the poor boy can get used to us and learn to trust in us teachers slowly and one by one."

"Exactly, Minerva." Snape answered. He was glad that the deputy headmistress was ready to understand and to help him with this. He knew that he would not be able to handle this alone. Not this time, not in Potter's case.

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"Potter is still not here?" Theodore Nott asked with a troubled expression on his face. He had been worried when Potter hadn't been in the common room last evening nor in the dormitory last night. And he had missed breakfast as well. Now, during lunch, he was still not here.

"Maybe they chucked him out." Malfoy smirked. "For being dim-witted and slow."

"But Professor Snape is here." Goyle said, pointing with his chin towards the staff table and Malfoy turned to gaze at his godfather. He seemed to be pale and tired but otherwise Malfoy could not read anything in his face. Maybe he'd had a meeting with the Death Eaters last night. Somehow his father looked the same when he came back from such meetings.

Of course the Dark Lord was vanished since years now. But the Death Eaters nevertheless met regularly under the lead of Nott and Macnair and he knew that those meetings were sometimes painful for some of them, that some of the Death Eaters still found great pleasure in casting painful curses at each others.

He at least would stay away from uncle Severus the next few hours. He knew from his experiences with his father that it did not do any good to cross a Death Eater's ways after such a meeting.

However, that was one riddle solved. But there was still the question where Potter had been – and still was ...

"Now, whom do you wish to use it on, Draco?" Crabbe asked in a whispered voice. "Weasly? Granger?"

But Malfoy shook his head and after a short gaze at the Gryffindor table he went to Crabbe. "No ... I chose ... Potter."

For a few seconds there was silence, a silence that even Snape seemed to notice and he cast a stern glance at the Slytherin table, trying to catch the scene. He nearly could feel the horror that crossed the faces of the first years and he knew there was something going on. He would have to take a word with Draco this afternoon.

Crabbe and Goyle were silent for a few minutes and Draco could feel the piercing stare of his godfather's eyes in his back. Maybe he would not be able to stay away from him today, he thought. Somehow uncle Severus always managed to know what he was up to.

After those few seconds in which time had seemed to stop short, it now seemed to be back with a sudden force and Crabbe's shocked gaze vanished into a questioning one.

"Potter?" He asked in a whispered voice.

"One of our own house?" Goyle nearly gasped.

It was one thing to pick on some Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs, maybe even Ravenclaws – but Slytherins? Someone from their own house? Snape would not like this. He always told that Slytherins should stuck together. That the other houses brought enough pain and stress onto them so that they should not do the same to each other in addition.

The house rivalries were present all the times. But no other house was as feared and as shunned as Slytherin was.

And now Draco wanted to go against one of their own house?

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Snape sat in an armchair beside the large bed in the hospital wing in which Potter lay, his mind wandering to the next days and weeks, and his tired eyes watching the Boy-He-Knew-Would-Cause-Him-A-Lot-Of-Trouble-The-Following-Weeks carefully. He had – against Madam Pomfrey's suggestion – decided, that he would not give Potter another dose of sleeping draught.

"It is much too soon, Severus!" Madam Pomfrey had said, sounding nearly angry. "His wounds are just beginning to heal by now. There were just too many wounds, and he is just too thin and weak as that his body would be able to deal with them as quickly as would any other child his age. He needs at least a day more!"

"I know that, Poppy." Severus had answered. "Yet – he slept at least twelve hours at a stretch and there are a few things I have to ensure. I need to talk to him so I can prepare a few matters."

"What do you want to prepare, Severus? The most important thing now is that the boy can heal. For heaven's sake! Severus! You have seen by yourself in what kind of state ..."

"I _have_ seen, Poppy!" Snape's voice had been nearly threateningly by then. "But do you not recognize that it maybe will be impossible for Potter to attend Hogwarts? What do you think will happen to him then?"

And now he sat here beside the bed, waiting for Potter to wake up, still reflecting the past two days and wondering how he could best communicate with the boy. There were few possibilities, yet – there were some.

The draught of minded pictures for example. A potion that simply would picture Potter's thoughts so that both could see them. Not easily made and it took at least a week, but he had one in his stocks. Yet, Potter still had enough potions in his system. He rather would not dare to give him more, especially not this one as it was a strong potion. Even if it would fit well for this situation.

Then there was the possibility that he could link his mind with Potter's. But not only would it be a two-way link what meant that Potter would know his mind as well as he would know Potter's, and he doubted that the boy would be able to handle _this_, no – it meant the link would remain. Not the entire link, but at least some parts of the link would remain. And he did not wish _this_ to occur. Definitely not!

A soft whimper pulled Severus from his thoughts a few minutes later and blinking a few times his eyes focused on Potter. With a frown, he pushed his tiredness away and run his hand over his face. Potter needed his full attention at the moment, and it would not do to be half asleep.

He studied the boy's face in his sleep. His features seemed a bit more twisted than they had been moments ago. Severus leaned back in his chair, unwilling to risk startling the boy should he wake suddenly.

He could use legillimens again, yet – he doubted that he would be able to. Surely the boy would not allow him to enter his mind this time either. Once again he had to admit that Potter had taken him by surprise. A first year using occlumency. That was just – alarming. Yet, maybe McGonagall was right. When Potter had such a strong magical mind, maybe he could ...

A low sound from the bed made him look up again and then his left eyebrow rose in a curious manner.

"Please ... please not ... I am sorry ... please ..."

Slowly Snape stood up and sat onto the corner of the bed beside the boy, watching him curiously. So Potter was able speak when sleeping as well, when he was not conscious of his actions. As he hadn't been the night before. He wondered when he had stopped speaking and what had occurred that he now claimed he could not. Could he really not? Did he just not want to speak?

No, he had seen the desperation in Potter's eyes yesterday, in his entire features. He was sure it had not been a matter of Potter's wish. Never mind how much he would wish to not speak, with the fear, the panic for to be correct, he had been feeling he surely would have spoken would he had been able to.

The single 'please' he had used yesterday afternoon. Well, Snape was sure that Potter even then had not really been aware of what he was doing, that he had spoken, not even what exactly had been happening around him in this moment. He had not really been conscious of the situation.

And now – here Potter lay, speaking in his sleep, and he spoke quite good enough so Snape was sure he had been able to speak for a few years before stopping. He had not said 'I sorry' but 'I am sorry'.

"No ... no more ... please ... no more ..." Again Potter spoke in his sleep, louder this time, while tears run down the pale face that was tense with fear and Snape laid his hand onto the boy's bony shoulder to calm him. But he only achieved the opposite reaction. Potter's irregular breathing quickened, the small and restless moving body began to tremble worse and the bony arms came up to cover his face. He still murmured in his sleep, yet so quickly and hastily that Snape couldn't understand anymore what he was saying.

"Easy, Potter." Snape said, trying to get the boy awake. "You are dreaming, wake up, Potter." Carefully he gripped the boy's shoulder and shook him softly. He did not wish to cause him pain, he just wished to get him out of his nightmare. "Come on, Potter, it is only a dream, wake up!"

With a startled cry of fear Harry really woke and quickly sitting up in his bed he tried to catch his breath when his eyes fell at Snape who had backed away when the boy woke, and with a second startled cry of fear he crept backwards, pressing his body against the headboard of the bed, wrapping his arms around his midsection as he had done the day before in Snape's office and drawing his knees up to his chest as if to gain as much protection as possible, eying the Potions Master with fearful eyes, trembling and shaking his head.

"Potter." Severus sighed, and when he saw the boy wince he took this as a sign that he had heard him. "Easy, Potter, relax." Snape said, sitting back in the armchair beside the bed to give the boy some space. He didn't knew in what kind of state Potter was, yet – he did not wish to frighten him with his much too close presence. "It was only a dream, Potter, calm down. You are still save here."

Slowly the boy seemed to understand that he was awake now and that he only had been dreaming and he relaxed – a bit at least. But then he tried to take in his surroundings, and recognizing where he was – in the hospital wing, with Snape sitting beside him – he again tensed up, eying the professor suspiciously.

He still was tired, more than tired. And he still was in pain. Yet, it was not the nearly uncontrollable pain he had been in since ...

He had forgotten when he last time was without this kind of pain. He had forgotten how it felt when it was absent ...

For a split second Snape saw the boy opened his mouth before quickly looking away. Yet, he had the feeling that he knew exactly what the boy had wanted to say and he shook his head.

"Do not apologize neither for such a thing as dreaming nor for a humanly reaction as flinching away when being in fear. I'm sorry for touching you, but I needed to get you awake as you were captured in a nightmare." Severus said in a low voice as he studied the boy. Potter seemed at least a bit more healthy than the previous day. A good night's sleep had its own priceless effects on the boy and he examined the thin and still pale face. There were still lines of exhaustion and tiredness on his features, lines of pain and fear. He still trembled, and still his arms and his hands twitch forcefully every few seconds.

Well, several years of terror couldn't be healed with one peaceful night.

He noticed every single reaction Potter gave away. It was entirely different than what he had seen during the opening feast and during the following day. Potter had been hiding his feelings quite well then, alarmingly well and Snape had to admit, would he not have been the spy acting in a dangerous war, he would not have been able to recognize the first signs. But now the boy was not able to hide anything anymore. Every single feeling, every wave of fear or pain was clearly written in his face and in his entire appearance.

The mask had fallen.

And he knew it was a start. It was better than hiding behind the mask behind which no one would have been able to reach him.

A few minutes Snape sat silently in his armchair, just watching the boy, watching if he would calm down by himself and apparently he did, a bit at least. His breathing was still much too quick, and the fear still was clearly written in the pale face. But even if Potter still trembled he seemed to be calmer now, his eyes stopped darting through the room and he did not seem to search for a route to somehow escape anymore.

He easily could give him a calming draught. But he knew from experience that Potter sometime would have to learn to trust him - and he wanted to see if the boy was able to calm himself - and so he decided against that. He could give him such things later, in a few days, when he would deal with Potter's finer nuances of trust and mental health. But not now. The sooner he would trust him consciously, the better.

"I am going to place my hand for a short moment at your forehead, Potter." Snape said slowly. "I only wish to feel if you are running a fever. I am not going to hurt you." He reassured the boy, knowing that the victims of mistreatment, abuse or torture often were scared of unannounced touches.

He waited a moment, but as he got no answer he carefully leaned forwards in his chair and slowly reached his hand to the boy's forehead.

Even despite Snape's warning the boy violently reared back at the movement, pressing his head against the headboard, closing his eyes and holding his breath, ready for the blow he expected.

Snape slowed his movement down even more, narrowing his eyes at the violent reaction and gently placed his hand against Potter's forehead. He had announced to the boy that he would touch him and Potter's reaction showed him how low his ability to trust was at all. He was more than just concerned at that thought. "I am not here to hurt you, Potter." He whispered. The boy's skin was warm, a bit too warm for his liking, a bit too warm for such a skeletal boy who would rather be cold. But it was not a fever yet and he eyed him calculatingly.

"Are you well, Potter?" Snape finally asked in a low voice, interrupting the silence that had gripped the infirmary.

The boy in front of him eyed him for a few seconds, but then he slowly cast his eyes downwards before he barely visibly nodded and Snape nodded himself. He doubted that Potter really was well, yet – he accepted the answer he had given him. He would press such matters later when trust had been build a bit. Not now.

"Eye contact, Potter!" Snape ordered, his voice tinged with calm softness and strictness at the same time and the boy lifted his gaze back at him.

"Are you still in pain? Do you need anything?" Snape asked, nearly cursing as soon as the second question was asked. Two questions at the same time. He should not ask two questions at the same time to someone who was only able to answer with a shake or a nod of his head ... he would have to remember that and he run his hand over his forehead, once again noticing that Potter flinched when he lifted his hand, kept his eyes at this hand until it was again resting at Snape's thigh.

But then Harry shook his head, even if he did not look at Snape.

This time either, he did not believe that Potter really was pain free. Nevertheless, he accepted the answer as he had done before.

"Allow me to explain some circumstances that had been taken place while you slept, Potter." Snape continued his voice still soft and gentle. "Madam Pomfrey and I, we have healed most of your injuries last night, so I believe you _really_ might feel better a bit than you did yesterday evening at least. And I have had a conversation with the headmaster and professor McGonagall too. No, Potter!" He said when the panic in the boy's eyes rose again. "I wish you to try and stay calm. Let me explain first, before you think about what might or might not happen."

Snape watched the boy closely and noticed he tried to say something, but he didn't seem to know how to form any words.

Then the boy slowly nodded, trying to pull himself together and again Snape had to admit that Potter handled all of this well, better than he had feared at least and he continued. "There are still some things I have to know, Potter. Yet – as you cannot speak and as you cannot write either we will have to use another way to communicate. And yes, Potter, there are some other ways. You have been raised by muggles." He said, knowing what reaction it would cause and he watched the boy in front of him flinch, but then he continued. "That for I guess you cannot imagine how much you can do with magic. One of those things is the possibility that I enter your mind."

Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the boy in front of him, began to shake once more, remembering yesterday afternoon's events and his gaze again darted through the room, searching a way to get out of this. Snape lifted his hand – very slowly this time.

"Calm now, Potter." He said in his most gentle tone. "There are more ways than just legillimens that I used yesterday afternoon. I do not wish to enter your mind and see your memories, not now at least. I wish to enter your mind so I can read your thoughts. I will ask you questions and with your thoughts you can answer them."

Still close to panic Harry shook his head and Snape did not have to enter his mind for to know what the boy was thinking.

"Do you know of any other way to communicate, Potter?" He then asked.

For a few seconds nothing happened, but then Harry slowly shook his head and lowered his gaze at his drawn knees and hands.

Noticing the first time that his fingers were no more distorted he lifted his head and his emerald green eyes locked themselves into the black ones of Snape, silently questioning how this could be and for the first time he knew the dark professor, Snape's face softened.

"As I told you, Potter. Madam Pomfrey and I healed most of your injuries last night." He simply answered the unspoken question and he had to force the expression of his face to remain his emotionless mask as the boy lowered his eyes back to his hands and his shoulders began to shake when a silent sob broke from the child's throat as he noticed that his hands were as normal as every other ones hands were. That he no longer had to hide them.

Harry's shoulders quivered and Snape saw him clench his jaw as he tried to suppress his tears.

Without success, and they rolled down Harry's cheeks and he bowed his head, hiding his face against his knees, until, after what felt like hours, Snape silently cleared his throat.

Harry gave hitched sobs but tried to regain his self-control. He flinched away when Severus slowly reached out to wipe away the tears glistening on the boy's face. "Do not fear me." The Potions Master said gently.

Somehow this hands stirred Snape's wish to kill the ones who did this more than all the other injuries he had seen last night.

The simple fact that the boy in front of him did not seem to mind the pain he still was in, but was grateful to have as normal hands and fingers as every other child, Snape could not avoid the tightness he felt in his own chest. It seemed to be as if the last ingredient was added to a potion and his anger was being held in place by only the correct stirring. His face must have shown it because the look on Potter's face showed his raw fear.

Fear of him.

"I am not angry with you. And I will not hurt you, child." He said softly. "You are not in trouble."

Harry swallowed and nodded his head in a single and short nod. It was all he felt capable of at that moment.

"Do you trust me?" Snape finally asked, his voice slightly rough, leaning forwards a bit, eying the boy, watching him gnawing at his lower lip, casting unsure glances at him from time to time, and he forced himself to be patient, to wait. This question, he knew, had not been fair. And he knew what would be the answer. Yet – he had to force himself not to feel disappointed when the boy finally shook his head, a look of clear despair and panic in his eyes, fear of how Snape would react.

The boy was shaking all over when he looked towards the man.

But Snape just nodded at him without anger in his face. "I would wonder if you did, child." He said, his voice as gentle as before. "And I am glad you gave me a true answer. Thank you for doing so. Nevertheless, I beg you to do and at least _try_ to trust me."

Again he paused, waited for the boy to give him an unsure nod and he could not suppress the smallest of a smile. He could not deny that Potter was at least brave. Maybe he should have been placed in Gryffindor.

He himself nodded for a short moment as if to nod to himself before he continued. "There is no other way, Potter." He then simply said.

Again mere minutes passed in which the boy just stared at his hands, in which Snape feared Potter would refuse, before he finally lifted his gaze, a nearly hopeless expression in his eyes and barely visible nodded. Yet – Snape saw the slight movement.

"I thank you for the trust you show towards me, child." He said in a near whisper. "Yet – I have to warn you, you will not be able to hide your thoughts from me while I am in your mind. Whatever it is you are thinking, I will know it. Are you still sure you can do this?"

Again a few seconds of stillness, then Potter again gave him a nod, noticing the harsh lines on his professor's face which made the wizard look tired and grim. And again Snape nodded in response.

Slowly raising his wand he whispered "cogitatio legere" and immediately he was hit with thoughts over thoughts.

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Snape will have to deal with the stumbling thoughts of a child. ...oO( ... poor Snape ... )_

_Harry has a breakdown and in his despair he shows Snape. _

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you

and again sorry for my delay ... but the past days I really was not able to do anything creative ... *cough* ... *sneeze* ...


	7. a conversation uncommonly held

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ...

And yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"I have to warn you, you will not be able to hide your thoughts from me while I am in your mind. Whatever it is you are thinking, I will know it. Are you still sure you can do this?"_

_Again a few seconds of stillness, then Potter again nodded. As did Snape._

_Slowly raising his wand he whispered "cogitatio legere" and immediately he was hit with thoughts over thoughts._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter seven**

**A conversation uncommonly held**

_'They will send me back ...'_

_'Uncle Vernon will kill me the instant I set my foot into his house ...'_

_'I should have been stronger ...'_

_'I was not able to control my pain ... '_

_'And now they found out ...'_

_'I am weak ... I am a coward ... '_

_'I am a freakish thing ...'_

_'They just will send me back ...'_

_'How could I have been so stupid to believe anything would get better ...'_

_'I will not survive going back ...'_

_'Maybe I can run away ...'_

_'They will send me back ...'_

_'I cannot do magic so I cannot stay here ...'_

_'How can I do magic when I cannot speak ...'_

_'And now they will send me back ...'_

_'But I ...'_

"Stop!" Snape said in a still calm and gentle voice, yet – he had to force himself to stay that calm. The thoughts that stumbled through his mind were just too fast and just too confusing – not to mention alarming – than to follow them completely and he lifted his hand at his temple. "Try to sort your thoughts. The calmer you get, the calmer your thoughts will ..."

_'Nooo ...'_

_'He will beat me ...'_

_'No ... I am sorry ... please ... whatever it is, I am sorry ...'_

_'Please, just don't beat me ...'_

_'Just don't send me back, I will do all you ...'_

"Stop!" Snape repeated, a bit more commanding this time. "Stop, Harry!" Snape recognized the thoughts were getting more controlled, they were not stumbling through his mind now, but were directed at him, even if still too fast and too confusing. But it was an improvement. What worried him much more was the fact that the boy thought he would beat him, that he clearly thought it, not just instinctively feared it, but formed his fear into words, that he even begged him not to do so. This fear was sitting much deeper than he originally had thought.

"I will not beat you, Harry." He said gently, wondering when he had gotten to calling the brat Harry. Yet – maybe it was the best for Potter, at least now, and he should trust his own instincts, as he ever had done in such a case.

"Never before have I beaten any child and I surely will not begin to do so now. You have nothing to fear from me. Just try to get your thoughts in an order and under control. Let them pass slower, let the unimportant thoughts slip into the background and try to not alter your feelings into thoughts. Concentrate onto that what you want to say."

_'I don't know if you would not ...'_

_'I will try ...'_

_'You are an adult ...'_

_'No unimportant thoughts ...'_

_'But you are an adult like uncle Vernon ...'_

_'I will try to make the thoughts calmer ...'_

Slowly Snape realized that the thoughts really passed slower. They did not stop, but they got clearer until just two words remained.

_'I'll try ...'_

"Good. That's just it. You do this well, Harry." Snape assured. "Now ... at first, as it seems to be your most pressing fear at this moment, let me assure you, I will not beat you. I will not raise my hand against you. You are safe here."

_'I don't know, adults always lie.'_ Harry thought and it was a clear thought, a thought after which he himself looked startled and fearful at Snape, trembling worse than before. He knew what he had just accused his teacher for.

_'I am sorry ... I didn't mean to ...'_

But Snape just nodded at him.

"Don't be afraid because of your answer, Potter. As I told you, you cannot hide your thoughts, and you cannot help your thoughts either. And as I know this fact, I will not be angry at you for your thoughts."

_'But why ...?' _Snape recognized this question definitely as not really a thought but mere a feeling put into words. Nothing he would have asked would he had used his voice. Nevertheless he gave an answer. It was important now to just talk to the boy if he wanted Potter to trust him and for a moment he had to suppress a sneer.

A Potter trusting him! Him! Snape! Shaking his head he remembered that _this _Potter maybe never would trust him, nor any other human. But not because he was Severus Snape, but because his uncle had taught him with his beatings to never trust anyone.

"Because not all adults are bad, Harry." Snape simply said. "We know meanwhile that your relatives has been abusing you and thus ..."

_'No, they didn't.' _Came the reply with a shake of the boy's head.

Snape raised his left eyebrow. It was not possible to tell a lie when being under the cognitatio legere, for no one really could control their deepest and innermost thoughts. But ...

"Who did hit you then?" Snape asked. Maybe he had been wrong and ...

_'My uncle did.' _At that point Potter seemed to recognize the mistake he had made because Severus clearly could make out the forced thought _'No, he did not... he did not ... no one beat me ... not uncle Vernon ...'_

"He did." Snape said in his still calm tone. "As I told you, you cannot help your true thoughts. However, maybe you do not really realize what abuse meant. But that is what your relatives did."

_'No. They just punish me because I make everything wrong.'_

"No, Harry." Snape shook his head. "No one deserves to be beaten to near death."

_'They didn't do anything ... they didn't ...'_

"As I told you before, Potter, it happens that I put some healing salve on you. On your chest as well as on your back. On your shoulders and on your arms. Even on your legs." Snape finally said. "So I saw your recent wounds as well as I did see your scars which actually are covering your body. So, if your relatives did nothing, then pray tell, how did you get them?"

_'I just fell ... it was my own fault and I just fell ...'_

"Those wounds were not caused by a fall, Potter. Do not insult your intelligence and do not insult mine either. Those wounds were caused by beatings."

_'No ... I just fell ... and ... and ... nothing happened, really sir ... I just am bad and uncle Vernon ...'_

The thought broke off and the only words which seemed to reverberate in Potter's mind were numbers. He was counting.

"When your uncle what? Continue!" Snape commanded sternly. But no answer came besides of the counting.

"Look at me when I am speaking to you. I said continue!"

_'There was noting, sir, really. My uncle did nothing, never. Really. Really.'_

Cursing silently Snape shook his head. This was going to be a much harder task as he originally had imagined. The boy was just too frightened to even think of what had been done to him. And if he had to be true towards himself, Snape had to admit that he was frightened by realizing that. It would complicate handling Potter.

"Now you listen to me, Potter." Snape snapped. "After what I saw last night, prison is the last of what they deserve!"

Then, seeing Potter flinch at his sharp tone, he sighed. "It is all right, child. I am not angry with _you_." And he reached over to take Potter's hand and lightly squeeze it, keeping his movement slow and his hand lowered and close to the bed, avoiding to raise his arm to a level with the boy's face.

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He couldn't handle this! He could handle beatings, harsh words. But the kindness that Professor Snape was showing towards him was rapidly breaking the walls that he had created around himself. He couldn't stop his emotions from showing. How was he supposed to keep control over himself like this? How was he supposed to ...

Seeing a movement out of the corner of his eyes he throw his arm upwards to hide his face, to protect his face from the blow that would follow the movement. He knew his uncle would kill him for this and he knew that this blow towards his face would soon be accompanied by a real beating. Or rather by several beatings over the next few days.

Snape stopped for a moment and then slowed his movements even more and gently pulled Harry's arm away from his face. "Easy, child." Snape whispered. "It is just me. Professor Snape. You are at Hogwarts. And you are safe." Severus saw the boy's face become calmer as reality took hold over him once more and he sighed in relief. Until now they had successfully avoided a full blown panic attack.

_'I am sorry ...'_

Severus shook his head. "Don't apologize, Potter. You do nothing else than showing normal human reactions." He said, watching the pale and thin face. "Answer me a question. When was the last time you did eat anything?"

_'I am not sure, I do not know. Monday I guess. But I am not sure. I just did not finish my chores. It was my own fault.'_ The boy dropped his gaze.

Snape had to close his eyes and his rage must have been visible in his face because a small whimper of fear brought him back to reality and he quickly pulled himself together.

"I am not angry with _you_, child." Snape said and this time his voice did not just sound gentle, it _was_ gentle. Without further hesitance he summoned a house elf and told the small creature to bring a bowl of light chicken broth.

_'But you are angry. And it is because of me, because I cause problems – again.'_

"You do not cause problems, child. Your relatives did cause problems. No child should suffer hunger as you did, Harry." He said. "Just in case you did not know, we have Tuesday, and yesterday you surely did _not _eat anything. What means that it had been a week since you last ate something. But a child should get at least three meals a day. How many meals does your cousin get?"

_'I do not know. I guess five in a day. But that is ...'_

"Not another case, Harry! No!" Snape interrupted Harry's thoughts just as the house elf came back with a bowl of broth and Snape placed the bowl into the boy's hands. "Eat!" He ordered.

Well, he could not have made a bigger mistake, he now noticed, for Harry looked at the bowl with pure horror in his face, nearly dropping the bowl.

_'No ... no ...'_ He instinctively thought, shaking his head.

Quickly Snape took the bowl out of the boy's hands before he could spill the hot contents and burn his hands and placed it at the nightstand beside the bed, laying his hand onto the small trembling shoulder instead, ignoring the sharp hiss of fear, ignoring the flinch. "What is the problem, child?" He asked.

_'No ... no ... uncle Vernon did not allow ... no ... please not ... 'm not allowed ... uncle Vernon will kill me ... don't make me ... please not ... no ...'_

"Stop!" Snape commanded. Without success. The boy in front of him began to rock his upper body forwards and backwards, his breathing had quickened again as had his trembling and Snape somehow knew he would not reach through this time. He sat at the bed and easily lifted the boy's thin upper body into his arms so the small back leaned against his chest as he had done the night before, thus stopping the rocking movements.

"Easy now, child!" He whispered. "It's all right. Your uncle cannot harm you here. You are safe here. Calm down."

Ok, this had been unexpected. But he was used to the unexpected when dealing with abused children and even if he had known that this would be no easy task, that this boy really would be a challenge, well – he knew how to improvise.

Then suddenly he saw ...

_A small boy laying in a cupboard on the ground, sleeping, wincing and shuddering in his sleep, silently crying ...__ a far too thin boy preparing dinner, standing at a stool to reach up to the hearth ... the same boy standing in the kitchen beside the table, watching his relatives eat a nearly kingly meal ... a hungry boy throwing away food, leftovers from the dinner his relatives had been eating just a few moments before while the others were watching in amusement ... the same boy, pulling the food out of the trash bin under the sink in the middle of the night ... the boy being caught by his uncle in the act of 'stealing' food out of the trash and got badly beaten because of it ... the uncle screaming at the boy. "Did anyone give you permission to eat, you evil and spoiled thing? You are stealing food from us? I will teach you ... you will not eat for an entire week!" ..._

Snape gasped in horror at what he had seen, and at what he had heard. The boy he had seen could not have been older than five or six years old. And he had been forced to prepare meals for his family and he was forced to watch them eat, to stand nearby without the permission to eat by himself even if he was hungry? He had to throw the leftovers away even if he was hungry? That alone was worse than any torment he himself could have thought of. And then he had been beaten to unconscious when he got them out of the trash bin and was forbidden to eat for an entire week? Even if the boy apparently had not been eaten in days? Was already hungry enough to eat from the trash bin?

That was more than just inhuman! That was evil! But immediately he gathered his calmness back and concentrated further, allowed the images to continue hurtling through his mind. Not he had used legillimens. It had been the boy who had opened his mind, who had allowed him to see. He guessed that – as the boy was not able to catch a clear thought at the moment – he just had chosen to show Snape what frightened him. Again the scene changed and this time it again seemed to be the kitchen Snape was facing.

_The uncle bringing down his belt onto the back of a much younger Potter, laying at the floor. He could not have been older than four or five years at the most. A low scream echoed through the kitchen and the man kicked his foot into the boy's stomach, causing the boy to give away another scream, a louder one this time, a choked one._

_"One more sound of you evil thing and you will regret it. You will not scream here in my house you evil thing!" And with this words he again brought down the belt over and over again onto the screaming child's back, changing to simply kick his foot into the boy's stomach and his back when his arms seemed to get tired until he regained back strength and continued with the belt._

The scene was over after again the boy had blacked out in this memory and changed and for a split second Snape allowed himself to close his eyes before he continued to concentrate onto the pictures the child showed him. He felt himself trembling with rage and he felt sick. The boy on the floor had been bleeding when Dursley finally had stopped.

_"You are not worth to live here, you ungrateful thing!" Dursley bellowed while bringing his belt down onto the back of Potter, as hard as he could in his rage. "And as you did not fulfil your daily duties, you cannot think us to give you anything to eat, now, do you?" He asked, still screaming, while Potter tried to at least protect his face with his arms as best as he could as he curled into a small ball at the ground, whimpering and shaking but otherwise remaining silent. _

_"You do not even deserve the clothing we give you, nor the blanket in your cupboard!" He bellowed at Potter while kicking his foot into the boy's side, causing a strange breaking sound and pulling at his shirt at the same time until the boy lay with his bare upper body at his feet. A lot of bruises and scars already covered the skinny body and his back was already covered in fresh red and bleeding welts from the beating he just now got._

_"And you will not go to this freak school either!" Dursley went on screaming and kicking and beating at the boy. "So you just will have to sleep in the cellar from now on!"_

_With these words Dursley took Potter by the arm and drug him over the corridor and to a door to his left which he opened. He threw Potter downstairs, laughing amused at the small 'thud' and the low cry of pain that came from the dark when the body hit the ground and followed down the stairs. _

_He took hand of one of the wooden laths that stood in a corner beside the door and continued to beat Potter with it._

Snape had to catch his breath as his blood began to boil in his veins. This time Potter was as old as he was now. Dursley had mentioned the 'freak school'. He remembered Petunia using the same term when Lily had visited Hogwarts. This, he guessed, had taken place shortly after Potter had gotten his letter from Hogwarts and he had to force himself to remain calm and continuing to concentrate became more and more difficult while he watched.

_Again Dursley stood in the cellar, beside him a boy as fat as the man was, and in front of them, fixed to a workbench was Potter, his bare and scarred back covered in angry red welts, the fat boy bringing a wooden cane down onto Potter's back. Yet he did not scream and only his body tensed and arched with each blow of the cane._

_"Now, now, Dudley ..." Dursley smirked. "Hand me that cane and I will show you how to do this properly."_

_The boy called Dudley handed the cane over and Dursley immediately brought down the cane with all force he could muster, causing the skin of Potter's back to tear open, drawing blood._

_Potter's rigid body arched at the pain and his breathing came in short gasps, his face a mask of immense pain but still he did not scream. Dursley brought another blow down onto Potters back, as hard as the first one had been, once again drawing blood, and this time not only the tense and rigid body arched under the pain but a low whimper of pain escaped Potter, a whimper that got louder and longer with each blow Dursley brought down onto him before he gave the cane back to the boy called Dudley who went on with the beating._

Snape had began to shake with horror and rage now. He was as angry as never ever before in his life. How could they ... how ... but before he could focus onto the question he couldn't grasp either way the memory changed and somehow he knew this was important.

_"You want to go to school, you evil thing?" Dursley asked, screamed, all the way beating and kicking at a six or seven year old Potter. "You dare asking me if you can go to school? With my Dudley above all, I think? I will teach you ... I will teach you what you are good for, you evil thing! Never ever dare to ask anything! Never ever dare to raise your voice here in this house!"_

_With this words Dursley lifted the boy at his arms and threw him over the kitchen table, onto his stomach, easily forcing the upper body onto the wooden surface of the table and both his arms behind the boy's back until the sound of dislodging joints were heard. He held them there in place with one hand while with the other hand he opened the zipper of ..._

A piercing scream echoed through the room and finally the pictures stopped.

Snape himself nearly jumped. Not only startled by the piercing scream but horrified by what he had seen. That ... he cast a look down at Potter in his arms and even as the trained spy he was, the Death Eater that had been forced to commit enough crimes by himself, he went pale as he recognized a shivering bundle he held in his arms, a shivering bundle that tried to curl up into a small ball, that tried to get away from him.

He knew, would he now release the boy, he would try to leave the bed, to leave the infirmary. So there was nothing Severus could do but hold him and talk to him even if he did not know if the boy really understood a word he said and carefully he restrained him which was not hard for the boy was far too weak to really fight him. He only could thrash around wildly until his strength left him and Severus, even if he did not really like how the boy was thrashing around at him, he tolerated it. He would be fine, what was not the same he could say for the boy. He did not know if the boy would be ok once his strength left him. He still cried and tried to pull away, but since Snape was holding him tightly, Harry had no chance.

_'I am sorry … I am sorry … I am sorry …'_

Those were no words, Snape immediately noticed. He did not hear Potter's thoughts. He merely felt them and he tried to remain as calm as possible in order to assure Potter that he wasn't angry, but it was more than evident that the boy was just too frightened to recognize that.

"Breathe, Mr. Potter…" Snape's voice was hoarser than ever. Not jet again, he thought, gritting his teeth in frustration. "Just continue to breathe, Harry. Breathe and try to calm yourself. You are safe. No one will harm you here, child. You are perfectly safe."

Ignoring the flinch and the panicked gasps the boy gave away he turned the boy in his arms and again pressed the small shaking body against his chest. He did not have to see the reminder of the last memory and he did not have to hear the horror in the child's piercing scream, in his sobs, for to know what had happened there.

"Calm down, child." He said in a voice as gentle as no one ever would have believed to be his, still holding the boy's shaking shoulders close to his chest. "Calm down. You are safe child. No harm will befall you here and I promise we will find a way to avoid sending you back there." He was not sure if the boy heard him at all for he gave no reaction to his words but continued to shake violently, drops of sweat on his white face. Yet he did not let go of the boy's form but held him carefully, over and over whispering to the child that he was safe until he finally calmed down.

"Mr. Potter?" Snape asked concerned while he still held the sobbing boy with one hand around the small shoulders and with the other hand around the thin wrists. "It is alright to cry, Mr. Potter."

He knew, right now he would not get any more answers out of the child and he did not wish to force him either. The boy had remembered enough. He had the answers he had wanted anyway. And even if he knew how important it was to get some food into the boy, he knew Potter would not eat anything right now either. So he took the goblet from the bedside table, trying to slowly get the dark blue sleeping potion somehow into the boy.

Snape couldn't believe he was doing this, and did not even attempt to understand why, but he simply sat there and rubbed circles on the back of the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Show-Him-He-Had-Been-Wrong-About-Being-Spoiled until he'd fallen asleep.

The last thing Harry could feel were careful hands tucking the blanket around him.

Severus slumped in his chair, his elbows propped on his knees and his forehead resting in his hands. He did not know the last time he had been that exhausted, and the mental and emotional fatigue was as bad as the physical tiredness.

Severus could never think that the boy had deserved the torment he'd been through.

He had misjudged the boy about his relatives and the way they had treated him. He could not deny that. He had also been wrong about Potter being a spoiled brat that would be arrogant and egoistic. The boy seemed kind and respectful.

For a moment Snape had to suppress a laugh. The boy was not respectful. He was submissive. He was fearful. What – however – did not mean that he – Snape – had not been wrong. But when he had been wrong, was it possible, just possible, that he might have misjudged the boy in other ways as well?

He had no idea if the youth ever would be returning into a completely different boy, into a normal boy. Severus tucked the blanket around Harry's small shoulders and slowly run his fingers through the child's dark hair before he left the infirmary. He needed to bottle some of the potions and make sure he had all the ingredients to brew some more. He wanted to be ready to give the boy whatever he might need.

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So this had been the reason why Potter did not eat in the great hall during mealtimes, Snape now knew. He had not been allowed to. His uncle had not given his permission to eat, and with rising anger he wondered if this damn, stupid muggle had even forbidden the boy to eat at Hogwarts at all or if he just never gave his permission.

He, Snape, had made himself quite clear. The students had to be present during meals and there would be no excuses. But Potter had not been allowed to eat. No one had told him to eat. So he had been forced to watch all the other students eating while he himself had been hungry. Silently Snape groaned, realizing what it must have meant to the boy.

Remembering the boy he had seen in the memories, standing beside the kitchen table while his relatives ate, he now knew why he had remained standing beside the bench in the great hall directly after the sorting.

And most of all, he now knew why the boy did not speak. Since the age of six or seven. Hopefully let it be seven, then he did not speak since four or five years. And with a reason. Damn, this boy had been raped by this animal of an uncle!

Would he even be able to relearn speaking some day? After such a long time? After years?

How deep does a mistreatment have to run, and how long had such a mistreatment to take place that a child reacted in such a way? That a child refused to eat by free will even if he was hungry? Watching other children eat while he himself had not been allowed to eat since a weak? While he was aching from hunger? That he did not even dare to sit down even if he saw every other children did? Even if his uncle had not been present? How deep run this fear?

And his anger against the muggle relatives of Potter rose again. He had seen enough, yet – he guessed he had seen just a minimal part, just had scratched at the surface of all that had happened. He knew there was much more to ...

A soft knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts and he took a moment to regain his normally blank and unreadable posture before he called "come in."

Draco Malfoy entered the office and took a seat in one of the armchairs in front of the desk. He was nervous. He had thought he could avoid his godfather today after the meeting with the Death Eaters. Yet – his godfather had sent one of the older Slytherin students to announce he wanted to see him in his office.

He did not really like the gaze with witch Severus eyed him during a much too long time for his liking.

"How were your first days here, Draco?" Snape finally asked.

"Great." Draco answered. "Crabbe and Goyle are stupid dunderheads, Nott seems to have a liking for Potter, Potter himself is a slow and dim witted coward and the rest ... well, most are ok."

"And you have no problems with the rules of Hogwarts, especially Slytherin?" Snape asked.

"Of course not, uncle Severus." Draco smiled. Severus seemed to be much calmer and much more patient after a Death Eater meeting than his father was and he was glad for this, relaxed visibly. "They are easy. And quite clear."

Snape smiled. "Yes, they are." He agreed. "You have been raised well by your parents, by your mother especially. You soon learned manners and how to behave. Even if your father sometimes seemed to overestimate. Yet – not everyone was raised as you have been and that for a school like Hogwarts needs such rules."

"I know, uncle Severus." Draco nodded. "You just have to watch Potter!"

"I take it, that you do not like Mr. Potter much." Snape said and it was not a question but a statement.

"Well, considering that he is above us all? What do you expect?"

"Above us all, Draco? Are you really under the impression that Mr. Potter is 'above us all'?"

"Well, no." Draco had to admit after thinking over his godfather's question. "But at least he is slow and dim witted. And he is a coward, uncle Severus. You just have to watch him!"

"Maybe you should not judge that quickly, Draco. You never know what is behind the behaviour of others."

Draco was silent for a long time.

What did his godfather wanted to tell him? That he should be befriending with Potter? A damned and pampered brat that never ever in his life had felt pain or fear? That he should kneel down in front of him and kiss his hands as every other one did? No – Potter now was here in Hogwarts and he had to get used to the same rules that worked for every other student.

"You know why it is important that Slytherin students stuck together, Draco, do you?" Snape finally asked, watching his godson close.

"Of course I know, uncle Severus." Draco answered. "It is because Slytherin is the one house that has every other houses against it. It is because Slytherin students are not welcomed to the students of other houses and even most of the teachers avoid the Slytherins."

"That is correct, Draco. Ten points for Slytherin." Snape answered. "Slytherins have to deal with enough trouble so there is no need that they bring trouble onto one of their own in addition. That for Slytherins stuck together. They stand up for each other, and they help each other, because they will not get help from others. Slytherins do not bring pain upon their own housemates."

"I know what you mean, uncle Severus. But Potter? He is no Slytherin. He should be in Gryffindor. Every one knows this."

"Pray tell, Draco ... why do you think he should be in Gryffindor?"

"Because his parents has been there. And because he is meant to fight the Dark Lord. Because he ..."

"His parents has been in Gryffindor, yes. And he is meant to fight the Dark Lord, yes. Nevertheless he has been sorted into Slytherin by the sorting hat. And that for he _is_ a Slytherin and that means he should be treated like a Slytherin. And besides of that. I told you, you cannot know what is behind the behaviour of others. Give him a chance as you would give every other student a chance."

Again there was silence for a few seconds before Draco finally nodded. "Yes, sir." He answered.

"Draco?" Snape asked, watching his godson close. "You _do_ know, that you, for yourself, always have a chance? Always! Do you, Draco?"

Draco cast him a long and thoughtful look, but then he nodded. "Yes, I know uncle Severus." He finally answered.

"Good, Draco. Then you may go. Dinner will be prepared soon."

Again Draco nodded and went to the door when Severus called him back. "And Draco." He said in a very stern voice. "Never ever again call the Dark Lord by this title. Only Death Eaters call him thus. You will call him You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as every others do. I do hope I did made myself very clear."

Another "Yes, Sir" and Snape nodded, dismissing Draco.

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During dinner in the great hall Snape watched the Slytherin table close and this time he did not notice the tension that had been there during lunch and he was grateful for it. Once again he had proved that speaking to his students was far more successful than beating some sense into them as so much of the Death Eaters did with their sons. What was exactly the reason why he always was ready to listen to them, and to talk to them.

His gaze wandered to the Gryffindor table. Potter was brave, and he really would fit well in Gryffindor.

Granger was sitting opposite from the youngest Weasly, discussing with him and he easily could imagine Potter sitting with the two of them. He watched Granger as she cast a curious, nearly concerned glance at the Slytherin table and he followed her gaze, recognizing Potter's empty seat.

What does Granger know? And why did she mind in the first place?

"Severus?" The low voice beside him startled him out of his thoughts and he turned to watch at Minerva's stern face, raising his eyebrow in a questioning manner.

"Are you well, Severus?" Minerva finally asked. "You do not look well at all."

"I am well, Minerva." He answered. "Nonetheless I need a word with you and the headmaster after dinner."

After watching him close for a few seconds Minerva bent towards Dumbledore at her other side and whispered a few words towards him.

The headmaster cast a quick glance at Severus but then he nodded.

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"I now know what had happened, Albus." Snape said while he remained standing behind the armchair that stood beside the one Minerva sat in, in front of the headmaster's desk, his hands gripping the backrest of the armchair in front of him. "And I may suggest that we go and visit the Dursleys now."

"The boy did tell you, Severus?" Dumbledore watched him with a surprised expression on his face.

"No, Albus. I have seen it." Severus answered.

"You used legillimens twice on a student during a couple of hours, Severus?" Minerva sounded nearly shocked.

"I did not use legillimens on him this time, Minerva, as I already knew it would not work. He already blocked me the first time. It has been him who pulled me into his mind to show me."

"He did?" Minerva sounded startled.

"What was it you saw then, Severus?" Albus asked.

"They did not only once beat him into unconsciousness. They starved him. They forced him to watch them eat while he was hungry, while he himself had not been allowed to eat during several days. And when he took the leftovers out of the trash bin in the middle of the night because he was _hungry_, he got beaten for that too. He was four or five years old then." Snape told them. "After he got his letter from Hogwarts they tried to hide him in the cellar. They even fixed him when they have beaten him so he could not defend himself or avoid the beatings in any way. He was in their hands, helplessly, and no one noticed, Albus. No one!"

Angrily he began to pace through the office before he continued. "He got beaten for asking if he could go to school when he was six or seven. And at this evening ... at this evening ... after his uncle told him he would not wish to hear any more questions or words from him ... this animal ... this evening ... he raped him this evening ... to show him where his place was. He never was allowed to visit the primary school, as I guessed."

Minerva nearly gave a startled cry away. She was shocked. "Tell me that is not true, Severus!" She pleaded with him, her face pale to death. "Tell me they did not do _this_ to him!"

Yet – Severus' silence was an answer in and on itself and Minerva gasped in horror, turned to Dumbledore.

"I told you, Albus!" She finally said, her voice still trembling but otherwise she had regained her composure. "I begged you not to leave the boy with this muggles, Albus! For heaven's sake!"

"I know, Minerva, I know!" Dumbledore answered and Snape could not help but notice that the headmaster's voice was sad but surprisingly stable. He had known, Severus thought not for the first time. _Albus had known_.

"Yet, by the time it seemed the right decision, Minerva." Dumbledore continued. "As it seems now, it was a sad misjudgement I made."

"A sad ... a misjudgement this boy had paid deeply for, Albus." Minerva said in a nearly harsh tone of voice.

"Do you not rather think we now should consider where to place the boy?" Albus asked and Snape turned to him, his dark eyes narrowed at his old friend and mentor.

"What exactly do you mean by 'where to place the boy'?" He asked and his voice was dangerous low.

"Well, Severus." Dumbledore met his gaze with calm eyes. "The boy has never visited a school before, and you surely cannot throw him into the daily ground of Hogwarts. I guess that he has to catch up far too much for this? Not to mention how to read or write in the first place?"

"What do you think will come to pass, when we chuck him out, Albus?" Snape asked. "Either he will be placed back with his relatives and there he would not survive longer than a week, or he will be placed in another institution and I guess you know by yourself what that means, considering you yourself got Tom Riddle out of an orphanage. Am I not right? There is only so much pain the human body can take, only so much fear the human mind can endure, Albus, and you know this."

"Severus and I have already discussed this matter, Albus." Minerva interfered. "And both of us will take it in our hands to teach him what he has missed. He seems to be very intelligent and I am sure we can handle this so he will be able to follow classes."

"Do you really think the both of you will be able to handle this, Minerva?" Albus sounded doubtful. "Do you even know what that means? What there will have to be done besides of teaching?"

"I guess yes, Albus." Minerva answered, her voice resolute. Of course she had not thought about other things besides of teaching. But she knew Severus and she herself had already made her mind up. "And besides, Albus, I have watched the boy during transfiguration. And even if he is not able to voice the spells, he did well during this class. He was one of the first catching the correct flick of his wand. In my humble opinion, yes, Potter will be able to attend classes. After his body has healed that is."

"I fully well know what there is to do, Albus." Severus said after the headmaster cast a questioning gaze at him. "And I as well know what it means and that it will not be easy. Besides of learning for school, he has to learn to trust humans, he has to learn that he himself is more than just a 'freaking thing' as his relatives had taught him, and I know as well that he needs proper monitoring concerning his sleeping- and eating-habits, added to exercises for his muscles, bones, joints and sinews, not to mention his nerves. Yes, I know that it will take not only teaching him school stuff, but caring for his mind and body as well. You seem to forget that I am not just a Potions Teacher but a Potions Master and as thus a trained healer. Not to mention the fact that I am the head of a house that has to deal with abused children since decades."

"Harry's abuse is surely not that worse that such steps as ... a … physiotherapy … as muggles name it ... would be necessary."

"It is, Albus." Minerva intoned before Severus could answer. "I have seen the boy, and believe me, it will be. I trust Severus that he knows well what he does and what will be necessary."

Albus watched her carefully and Snape leaned forwards, his hands resting at the surface of the wooden table in front of him. "Did you even visit Potter, Albus?" He asked the headmaster and his voice was cold. "Did you see him? I guess before you refuse a _physiotherapy_ as you call it, you maybe should have a look at Potter."

Albus was silent for a moment. Of course he never had visited Harry. Not because he did not care, but rather because he feared what he would find there. Yet – would they, Severus and Minerva, really be able to handle the boy's health? Slowly he nodded.

"I guess we can give this option a try. But I wish reports every three days from both of you and if there are too much difficulties, then I will consider another option like St. Mungos."

Snape's expression darkened at those words. "I will have none of this, Albus!" He said in a growl. As it seemed he had to play all cards he had in his hands, including the one he had in his sleeve. "First, I did not go to Privet Drive yesterday night under one condition and one condition only. Potter's health and the punishment of his relatives are in my hands. As it should be as I am his head of house. And second, as soon as the boy is in St. Mungos, the ministry will be informed, and I guess you know what is the meaning of this. As the head of his house, I claim the boy, Albus. And I will not allow him to be sent back to those muggles. Further, as the head of his house, I claim charges against Petunia and Vernon Dursley. And as their son is not of age yet, I will claim him as well. Just to keep him safe from the Dursleys." He added with a grin.

Yet – was he really ready to claim Potter? When he did so, he would have to ...

Damn! He needed to give something to Potter, anything to make him feel safe. And if this meant that he had to claim the boy, if this meant he had to be the boy's guardian, then he would do so.

Albus was silent for a moment, watching Severus with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "Well, I had my reasons why I made you head of Slytherin house, Severus." He finally said. "And there was never a moment I felt regret for doing so."

"What about the Dursley's?" Severus finally asked again the question with which this conversation had started.

"I guess it would be wise to visit them, Severus. If only so we learn more about the circumstances of Harry's life until now." Dumbledore answered, but he cast a stern gaze at Severus over the glasses of his half moon spectacles. "Yet, I guess I do not have to remind you, that no harm should befall them."

"Of course not, Albus." Severus answered and with a short nod Severus turned and Minerva got up and both left the headmaster's office. Severus with an angry glare, Minerva with a still shocked but determined one.

Only when both teachers had left and Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, was sitting alone behind his desk, he allowed himself to rest his face into his hands while silent tears escaped his eyes.

Had he only known.

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**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Snape and Minerva, together with Poppy has to figure out how best to help Harry during the difficult healing from the physical and mental abuse of his relatives._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you

**Meanwhile in Hogwarts – dungeons – Severus Snape's quarters:**

Harry: Uhm … what is it with Krümel?

Snape: Krümel? Who is Krümel?

Harry: Well, the author …

Snape: Her name is evil minded …

Harry: Yes, I know … and by the way, she definitely _is _evil … did you read what she wrote? What she put me through?

Snape: Yes, I did …

Harry: well … but she is small, and I like calling her Krümel …

Snape: hmpf …

Harry: (looks with a startled gaze at Snape) how eloquent …

Snape: (lifts one eyebrow) this, Mr. Potter, is my saying … do not mess with my words if I may insist … brat …

Harry: (giggling) ok, ok … but what is it with her? She seems … uhm … strange today …

Snape: well, I guess she is in some kind of a shock …

Harry: why? She will recover, won't she?

Snape: of course she will … you see the small blue number at the top of the page?

Harry: yes …

Snape: well, those are the reviews … and she is in shock because she got more than 50 reviews meanwhile …

Harry: whoa … is it bad?

Snape: I dare doubt that Mrs. evil minded considers this as a bad thing. I merely guess she did not think getting this much positive reviews in the beginning

Harry: (eyes Snape carefully) and you? Do you like this story?

Snape: comparing to what I last got in hands from Mrs. evil minded during her school-time, I have to admit that her writing abilities has improved. But considering what she puts you through (ruffling Harry's hair) no, I do not like this story … (glares daggers at the author)


	8. there will be a way

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ...

And yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Only when both teachers had left and Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, was sitting alone__ behind his desk, he allowed himself to rest his face into his hands while silent tears escaped his eyes._

_Had he only known._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter eight**

**There will be a way**

The voice was deep and silken, hunting the harsh screaming voice of uncle Vernon away, even if it was low, nearly a whisper, and for a moment he wondered how a whispered voice would be able to best his uncle's screaming. Maybe because it was a voice that was firm and sure, demanding but calming at the same time. He could not hear the words, he could not understand them, but whatever was said, it was calming. Maybe just the voice was calming, he didn't know.

He had heard this voice before, but he could not remember where, nor could he remember the face that belonged to this voice and still trying to make out the words that were said he began to remember the last time when he woke up.

The hospital wing. Professor Snape. The spell that ...

He had ... Professor Snape had found out ... he had _shown _Professor Snape …

No!

Absolutely no!

That surely never happened! That was not _allowed _to happen! And thus it just never _had_ happened!

But somewhere deep in his mind he knew it was true, it _had_ happened ...

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Potter's movements were slow at first, and Severus Snape placed the book he had been reading aside, moved closer towards the bed, sitting onto the edge of the mattress.

He did not really know why he was sitting here in the infirmary in the first place, reading a book while watching Potter.

Well, of course, he had this appointment with Minerva and Poppy this night, yes. But this meeting would start in just a half an hour and he was sitting here since he had left the headmaster's office at eight, what means since nearly thirty minutes now. He had come here straightway from Dumbledore's office, not even bothering to think of going into his quarters first to do anything else until he met with Minerva and Poppy an hour later. He could have done anything within this hour.

Maybe it was just out of his duty. Potter was a student of his house after all and his responsibility just told him, that he had to look after him from time to time. Well, yes. He knew by himself that he always held his responsibilities high.

He watched as Potter started to move more violently, whimpering in his sleep and getting tangled in the sheets covering him. The left hand still was twitching every few seconds without control and Snape hurried to try and calm the boy down, before he could hurt himself.

"Easy, Potter." He whispered, yet loud enough so Potter would hear him, placing his hand on the boy's left shoulder, once again gritting his teeth angrily as he felt the bones through the nightshirt under his touch. Anger against the Dursley's. "It is not real. It is only a dream. You are safe here. Calm down!"

The boy woke with a startled scream and Snape, for a split second intending to release Potter, increased the pressure on the small shoulder, keeping him from sitting up too quickly. He would have to get used to human touch anyway.

"Slowly now, Potter." He commanded. "You will do no good to yourself when you rush things now. Take slow movements and take slow breathes."

When Harry finally woke his entire body was trembling and he could not make sense of what had happened nor were he was, and he shook his head. Continuing the shallow breathes seemed to be the only way that he would get the air he needed, even though he wasn't getting it and again he tried to sit up.

"Slow breathes, Potter!" Snape said, his voice still low but definitely commanding, while he slowly placed his hand behind Potter's back and helped him sitting up in his bed. Summoning a few more pillows and placing them behind the boy's back before he gently pushed the small upper body to lean back.

Potter flinched and the trembling of his hands increased. He glanced at Snape with a fearful look and Snape's heart nearly clenched in pain.

Yes, he wanted his students to fear him, to some extend at least. He wanted them to fear him so to keep his reputation at place, to keep them in line and to ensure them they better did not try any stupid stunts in his class. But not like this. Not this raw fear that was rather panic, terror, than fear at all. He never wanted his students to fear him beating them or harm them in any other physical way.

Nevertheless he kept his face neutral and his voice commanding. "Stay calm, Potter. Concentrate onto your breathing until you have this under your control." He commanded his voice calm and low and his dark eyes piercing the boy in front of him. "There is no need for any haste and I wish you to take this slowly."

The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Make-A-Soft-Fool-Out-Of-Him shifted under his hand, trying to make him put his hand that he still had laying on Potter's shoulder down but the older wizard only tightened his grip to prevent Harry from pulling away.

Potter flinched as if being burned when Snape tightened his grip on his shoulder and the Potions Master easily could see the entire pain and fear behind those green eyes for a split second before he threw his left arm in front of his face, trying to block the blow that surely would come.

Snape was sick to his stomach as he thought of what that horrid man of an uncle had done to Potter to cause such reactions every time someone touched him or just moved a hand into his direction and he – yet again – had trouble hiding his feelings as he could sense both, physical and emotional stress on the boy.

"You are in no danger, Potter." Snape said gently, and reached up to pull his arm down from his face. "You are perfectly safe here at Hogwarts. No one can enter this castle without permission of the headmaster or one of the heads of houses. Your uncle will not be able to harm you here."

Potter's eyes finally cleared and he seemed to recognize who was sitting in front of him at last and he slowly lifted his head so that he could look at Professor Snape. The older wizard was patiently glancing down at him with dark eyes full of concern in his harsh looking face.

"Take calm and steady breathes now, Potter." Snape commanded softly and watched his student, taking in the small attempts to take the calm and steady breathes, taking in the still trembling form, the twitching hands, and the tongue he run over his dry lips.

He summoned a glass of water and again reached out towards Potter, as slowly and cautiously as possible.

"Drink this, Potter." He said, his voice low, nearly sad, slowly running his free hand behind Potter's head to steady him and placed the glass at the boy's lips, yet – even if he easily could see how much the boy longed for the water, Potter draw his face away, pressing his lips together and trying to push the glass away, trembling, fear dancing in his wide eyes which watched the glass suspiciously.

What in Merlin's name did Potter fear he would give him?

"It is only water, Potter." He said, his face darkening with rage, strengthening the grip he had on the back of Potter's head, and carefully trying to force the boy into drinking. "I promise you, it is only water, there is no poison or other things in it. It is clear water, nothing else, only water. You need to drink a bit." He soothed while dipping the bottom of the glass. He knew, just a few drops onto the boy's lips were needed so he would know it really was just water and he watched Potter running his tongue reflexively over his lips as the water wet them.

With a low cry of relief Potter placed both shaking hands around the glass so Snape had to strengthen his grip as the boy actually tried to pull the glass out of his hand, spilling its contents thereby even if the glass was only half filled.

"Easy, Potter." He said in his low voice, not wishing to startle the boy. "Drink slowly or you will make yourself sick." He knew Potter was thirsty, presumably even more thirsty as he was hungry and he knew how that felt. But Potter would do himself no good quaffing the water, so he strengthened the grip he had at the glass. It wasn't the first time he handled a person nearly perching. Denying his victims water and food had been something that was standard to the Dark Lord.

The boy gave away a low cry of frustration and again tried to pull the glass out of the vice grip of the Potions Master, but Snape was prepared and after a few sips he pulled the glass away. What he was not prepared for, were the tears and the despair clearly written over the young face and he had to grit his teeth to keep his composure.

"You will get more, in a few minutes. I promise." He said, his voice rough. "But not now."

Often enough had he tried to comfort the victims of the Dark Lord after their torture with such trivial things as water, pain relievers and healing potions. Often enough had he had to handle this very situation and pulling a glass of water away from thirsty lips. Yet – it was entirely different to do such with a child, from a child that did not understand, and for the first time since nearly ten years the cold heart of the Potions Master hurt, while he felt really bad, wishing he could give the boy more.

"In a few minutes you can have more water, child." He said, his own voice trembling as he noticed the desperation and the fear in Potter's emerald green eyes which watched him warily. "But only in a few minutes. Not now. You only would make yourself sick. Your body is not able to handle too much water at once. Not now."

The boy's weak protests dissolved into silent sobs that filled the Potions Master's cold and stony heart with a new fire that was entirely new to him. "Don't worry, child. I am not going to deny you what you need. I promise I will give you more soon."

Yet - the wary and fearful look in Potter's eyes did not change. "Do you trust my word so little, child?" Snape silently asked and his voice nearly sounded sad.

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Minerva McGonagall was sitting with her back towards the door of Madam Pomfrey's office while Severus Snape stood at the opposite wall, straight and with his arms crossed over his chest, his face a dark growl. He still had the incident with the boy a few minutes earlier in the forefront of his mind and he was angry beyond reasoning.

"Shall I catch the one responsible, namely Dursley, I swear, then he will rue the day his father met his mother and gave birth to him!" He growled darkly.

"When you do catch him, Severus, then please, spare enough for me as I wish to have a piece of him too." Minerva answered, her growl nearly as dark as the Potions Master's.

She had entered the infirmary in the moment when Severus had offered the water to the boy and she had watched the whole incident. She had been close to tears, had been close to interfere and she had been angry at Severus, even if she had known that he had been right, but now her anger was pressed towards the Dursleys and as present as Severus' rage.

Madam Pomfrey, sitting behind her desk, shook her head. "I can understand your anger, Severus and Minerva, but this is not what we have to discuss right now." She said, addressing both teachers. "Albus allowed me to release Mr. Potter into your hands, Severus, and we should discuss what he will be in need of."

"First, above all other things, he needs to recover." Severus said, shaking his head. Wasn't that obvious? And from there on they could discuss this further, when they knew more about the particular conditions.

"What about your classes, Severus?" Minerva asked, addressing the Potions Master.

"Albus will take them over for the next few weeks." Snape answered with a snort. He easily could imagine his potions classroom being in a mess, chaotic, destroyed, blown up and ... no, he better did not think about this right now. "I only will take over the classes of the first-years. Those lessons are too important as that I would leave _them_ to Albus. After this I guess, the boy will be ready to be alone for a few hours while I go back to teaching."

"And I still do not like this." Madam Pomfrey interfered. "The boy ..."

"... is not a toddler who needs to be watched twenty-four hours a day. I know that he needs care, but Albus and I have discussed this. I will not go back to teaching all at once. The headmaster and I will share classes at first until I see fit that the boy can go back to his dormitory."

Sighing heavily Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Still I do not like it. And I still do not see why he has to be moved from the hospital wing in the first place."

"Because you know as well as I do, that Potter does not need a lot of people surrounding him just now and the school infirmary can not be kept off limits just while Potter is still here and keeping him in the dormitory surely is out of question. And you know as well as I do, that you would not be capable to handle this boy on your own and I would not be able to haste along between my quarters, classes and the infirmary."

"Of course it would complicate things. Yet – you know as well as I do how close to death he had been. Damn, Severus! You have been there, you have seen ... just ..." Shaking her head she stopped and Severus frowned at her.

"Yes, I know, Poppy. Just a few days more and he would have been beyond our ability to save him. And I know that he still is not out of danger yet. But you know that I am as capable in the healing arts as you are, with the opportunity of knowledge how do deal with children like Potter. I have them in my house every year, even if I have to admit that Potter will be a challenge. What is exactly the reason why he will be better off in the dungeons than in the hospital wing."

"I know that you are right in some ways, Severus. It is just ..." Again Poppy Pomfrey sighed, shaking her head. "Well, however the situation, I guess we have to address the subject how to go on now."

"Considering his severe underweight, I cannot work with too much potions in the beginning." Severus growled darkly. "What means that mealtimes will be difficult and a correction of his weight will be taking a long time. What will keep him weak and frail for far longer than I would like it. It further means that his physical healing process as well will take longer than it normally would take."

"Exactly." Poppy agreed. "The boy will need enough to drink, Severus. For meals broth and soups at first, in small portions so his body can get used to food. Make sure that he at least gets five meals a day. But let me assure you, this will not be an easy task. Until now I have not been able to convince him to eat anything at all. I had to spell nutrition potions into his system in the end. I am sure you really will have problems convincing him to eat anything."

"I know this, Poppy." Severus answered, his voice his usually snap, yet, the matron ignored him.

"He will need to sleep a lot during the next two or three days, ensure that he will get all the sleep he needs. And as for the physical healing process, you will have to use simple salves instead of healing potions and healing spells."

"Isn't this what I just said?" Severus asked, sarcasm dropping in his voice.

"And later on, no strenuous physical activities." The medi-which continued, ignoring him completely. "Only careful exercises. I guess you know which ..."

"Poppy!" Severus snarled. "You know as well as I do, that Potter is not the first student I care for, nor will he be the last one. Yes, I know well which exercises he will be in need of."

"I know, Severus, but never before had you have to care for a student in _such_ a bad shape, God forgive me, I would not release him into your care, would you not have the explicit permission from Albus. Really, Severus!"

"You seem to forget that I have had an education as a healer, woman!" Snape growled at her and she shook her head.

"You know your temper, Severus Snape!" Madam Pomfrey said, ignoring him – yet again. "I wish you to ensure that there is no screaming or yelling around the boy, and no hectic movements. Do you understand me?"

"No, Poppy, you speak an entirely different language to me. Would you be as kind as to translate your words so even I could understand them?"

"This is not funny, Severus!" Madam Pomfrey protested. "Do try to keep your sarcasm in line, and do try to not hurt him with your words. You know that your tongue is sharp enough to cut air if you wish to. Do not startle or frighten him."

"Enough, Poppy!" Snape growled, waving his hand at her. "You know that I am more than capable to handle this situation and that it is the best we can do. The hospital wing surely is not what he needs right now and he will be safe in the dungeons. I _know_ what I have to do, and I will _do_ what has to be done."

"I know, Severus." Madam Pomfrey sighed. "I am just worried. He is not out of danger yet."

"I know that." Was all Severus answered this time. "As am I."

"You know that you will have to talk to the boy, Severus." Poppy said after a short pause and her voice was unsure now. "I know that you have done so in the past with other students. But in this case, it may not be enough."

"It surely will not be enough." Severus agreed, closing his eyes briefly, the only sign of distress he gave away. He was worrying about the future as well as was Poppy. "Yet, there are other surges which I can try. A pensive for example. Viewing some of the memories as a third person, maybe will allow him to gain a new perspective. As well as a journal. He can share his memories, his feelings and his thoughts with the parchments and he can reread them afterwards, finding answers, reasons, and new questions, whatever. There will be enough possibilities and we will find one that suits Potter."

"Yes, knowing you, you will find something, Severus." Poppy answered finally. "Yet, as Mr. Potter is not able to speak, things will be even more complicated."

"I know, Poppy. But for that as well we can find a solution. I can use cogitatio legere until Potter is able to write his answers down. I even am able to read a few signs of sign language. The only problem is, the boy cannot use sign language. But he could learn it. I could teach him those I know. And besides, as he _had_ spoken, yesterday afternoon, even if it was only one word and even if it was only out of his terror, we know he is capable of speaking. Physically at least. We just have to find a way to help him getting back his ... courage to speak."

"What do you mean, he had spoken, Severus?" Minerva asked, stunned. "You told me that Potter is not able to speak."

"And he isn't, Minerva." Severus explained. "At least he is not able to form words and express them. Not in a normal situation. Yet, it is not a physical muteness but a mental disorder. He once had been able to speak. And under the pressure of the situation yesterday afternoon here in the infirmary, he uttered the word 'please', twice. What means, he can relearn speaking. We only have to find a way. I even hope that, when he begins to feel safe here, that it will come back by itself."

"As do I" Poppy whispered.

For a moment there was a pause before the medi-which addressed McGonagall. "Well, Minerva. And you better ensure that you visit Severus a few times before you begin your lessons with Mr. Potter, so he can get used to your presence. Otherwise he only would fear you."

Professor McGonagall nodded mutely. She had known that Poppy soon would lecture her after she was finished with Severus. "I will do so, Poppy, until he can come to my office for his lessons."

"A very good idea, Minerva." Snape said, nodding, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "If you enjoy it to have a full blown panic attack on your hands."

"What do you mean, Severus?"

"The boy is at a complete loss, Minerva." Madam Pomfrey interfered. "He will neither think like you, nor feel like you. Over the past nine years I guess, he has been isolated from other humans. He has been kept in the same house without leaving it, I guess, considering Severus' report that he has not been allowed to attend school until now. He is neither used to other humans nor to other places. When he now leaves the infirmary, you will have all your hands full in getting him used to the dungeons, and you rather would not throw him into other rooms too soon then. I guess he has been punished and abused for the smallest mistakes he made. We do not know exactly, but I fear even things like looking at his relatives in a wrong way, saying things in a wrong way, doing things in a wrong way may have upset them. And now he needs a constant anchor that grounds him, that shows him where he stands and where the people around him stand."

"I do not understand, Poppy." Minerva shook her head. "Potter had been able to attend to classes the first day, and he attended meals in the great hall. And considering the shape he is in, he did well."

"Yes, he did, Minerva." Snape said, his face dark. "But what you have seen was only a mask he kept. He was not as comfortable with the situation as you may think. And yes, he will attend classes and meals further as soon as he physically is ready for it. Yet – this alone will be strenuous enough and we should minimize the rest of – well, strange or new experiences. So I suggest you to teach him in my quarters until he will be able to move back into his dormitory and is used to this as well. From then on, you can give him lessons in your office."

Minerva nodded. He understood what Severus and Poppy tried to tell her, and she really had no problem at all with the aspect of going down into the dungeons. She had visited Severus in his quarters quite often from time to time during the past years, and she would do so further. This all was just entirely new to her. Never before had she been in such a situation with any student. The children in her house did not have such a past and never before had Severus asked her to help him with one of his students. That alone, the fact that he _had _asked for her help, showed her how serious the situation was. Severus Snape was no one who easily asked for help.

"You do realize, Minerva, that you should be very carefully, when you teach him?" Poppy continued. "Everything that requires tools like rulers, wands, knives – that goes for you, Severus – or every other things that could be used to beating or else wise hurting him will startle and frighten him. A panic attack would be the result."

"I do know this, Poppy!" Severus groaned. Did this woman really think he was that stupid?

"I know that you know, Severus! But Minerva has absolutely no experience when it comes to abused children. She never has had one in her house."

"No, I did not have one thus far, Poppy, but even I am able to show common sense."

"This is not a matter of common sense, Minerva. We have seen wounds from various beating instruments." Severus explained. "Mostly caused by something like a cane, some definitely caused by a belt. He has burns, so be careful when handling fire in his presence. And cuts, I guess from a razor, a scalpel or a very sharp knife. So Poppy is right, be careful with sharp objects. He will even fear your hand and a panic attack is not every time as apparently as you may think." His eyes pierced the Transfiguration Professor and he sight before he continued.

"Just an example. He does something you expect of him and you praise him. He would be afraid of it. He will fear that he will have to pay for it. He is not used to a kind word and he will fear it. He is not used to a friendly touch, and he will fear it. He will even fear that he will have to pay for such minor things as food, care and healing. And he will fear punishment for everything he does, for everything that happens, even for everything he thinks. When this punishment does not come, his anxiety will grow very quickly. So you whether have to punish him, and do so immediately, or ensure him that no punishment will take place."

"Oh." Minerva made, looking nearly anxious and Severus snorted at her.

"What a display of your skills in the use of human language, Minerva." He said, and the head mistress snorted back at him in response.

"I guess you will have a hard time to keep him calm, even to keep him from doing chores." Poppy interfered. "I guess he will feel the need to work for his stay, to earn everything you give him, even such simple things as water or something to eat. You will have to ensure that he will do no such things. Firstly, he has to learn that he does not have to pay for food or medical care, and secondly he will tire just too quickly for such."

Severus nodded and his gaze fell through the office-window into the large room where Potter was laying in the much too large bed, asleep. "It will be a few very hard weeks, Minerva, you should be aware of this." He said, piercing the deputy headmistress with his dark eyes. "Nothing will be easy when it comes to Potter. He had been without a caring adult far too long, not having anybody to refer to as a parental figure. He is used to care for his needs by himself, even if this is not what should have been. He will be as unsure as will be you. He will neither know how to handle you, nor what exactly you expect from him. You will have to be very clear and strict, Minerva, even if you would rather want to give way to him. Gentle and careful, but strict. Only if you guide him strictly, only if you make clear rules, and stick to them, he will feel safe enough to trust you and only then he can – with time – learn what to expect from you. And what you expect from him."

Listening to Severus Snape speaking about a parental figure, Minerva couldn't help laughing.

"One last thing, Minerva." Poppy said in a nearly sad tone of voice. "And this really is important. No matter what, I wish you to do not interfere whatever Severus does. It may be that he will do things, which you would not understand, which you even will consider as cruel. But believe me, he knows what he is doing. Even I leave him to handle the mistreated children without interfering. Even if I sometimes have to leave, not being able to watch. I am sure that he will explain to you afterwards, but within the moment it really is important that you allow him to handle the boy without interfering in any way. He always has been successful thus far when it came to abused children. Slytherin always has been the house of the broken children, the home to those who have suffered beyond what a child should ever witness."

Nodding slowly and with an unsure gaze she cast towards Severus, Minerva remembered the incident with the glass of water she had witnessed just an hour ago and she began to understand. Would Severus not have explained to the boy that he would get more water a few minutes later, would he not have explained to the boy that his body would not has been able to handle too much water all at once, she would not have understood and she would have interfered. She would not have been able to watch this, not to mention to do it herself in the first place.

Yet, she wondered how Severus was able to handle such situations, and her respect towards her colleague grew once again.

He had been a Death Eater, many years ago. And he now was a spy for the light side of the war who put himself in danger over and over again. He seemed to be unreadable, cold, tough, and always wore a mask of composure. His self control was beyond her imagination. He was the one teacher here in Hogwarts that caused every single student to burst into tears at least once during the year with his loathing scowl, with his cold appearance, and with his razor sharp sarcasm.

He was a hard man and he showed it, and maybe it was because of this coldness and hardness, that he was able to handle such situations with the harshness that was needed where every other one would have given in, not being able to cause even more pain to an already badly injured and hurt child.

All in all, never would she have thought that this man would be able to handle abused children in such a way she had witnessed twice now. She could not imagine him as a caring and kind teacher.

But then – she _had_ seen him in the infirmary, handling Potter and again she nodded while she watched him close. His hard and motionless face and the cold and hard black eyes. The mouth that was a thin line that she never ever had seen curling into a smile. Yet – while he had held Potter, these dark eyes had not been cold and hard. They had been soft and warm. The Potions Master seemed to have much more sides than she had given him credit for until now.

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The Potions Master was sitting in the chair he had occupied more than an hour earlier, beside the bed, his eyes glued to the small form, his mind straying over the past two days.

Yes, he had abused children in his house every year since he had started teaching at Hogwarts. And yes, he knew exactly how to handle them. He had handled them all, and he had handled them successfully. Yet – none of these children had been abused as badly as Potter has been and the fear in this special boy run that deep ... he was unsure if there really would be any efficiently outcome. He was unsure if he was able to really help this child.

This child!

Potter! Harry Potter for to be correct! The son of Bloody James Potter!

Yet – it simply was a child and he simply was not able to further hate this boy who was not the spoiled brat he had thought him to be. He was a boy. A child. He was a child that had been badly mistreated.

Merlin, just a few days more and the boy would have fallen into a state where they would no longer have been able to help him. Just a few days more and the boy would be dying.

And he had not seen the signs.

Sighing he ran his hand over his face.

He had not seen the signs. He saw them by all of his Slytherins. But he had been blinded by the hate he had felt for James Potter, by the hate he had transferred to James Potter's son. Forgetting that Harry Potter was not only the son of James Potter but the son of Lily Evans as well.

He sighed once more. No, he would not allow his thoughts to stray into this direction now. He had other problems at hand right now. Right now there was the boy lying on a bed, breathing evenly, although small coughs shook his body from time to time.

Yes, Potter was weak, and Severus guessed his immune system was weak as well. He only hoped the boy would not catch a cold. An illness added to the injured and starved state he was in, only would complicate the already difficult situation.

Of course he knew exactly what he had to do, how to handle Potter. And he knew that he would be able to do so. But he did not look forward to it. He never was eager about being harsh and ... _'cruel'_ ... to an already abused and frightened child. And this child here ...

Damn, the fear of no other mistreated child in his care was running as deep as the fear of Potter did. Never before had a child out of pure terror fallen to his knees and begged him to leave him go. A rant, raging, an angry outburst, sobbing and tears ... yes. But never, absolutely never such an outburst of terror as Potter had displayed yesterday afternoon and evening. This boy had even overstepped his own boundaries and had uttered a word when he had not spoken for Merlin knows how many years.

And then the incident with the water. The boy _had_ been thirsty. Thirsty beyond what was humane. But he had refused the water – _water_ – such a simple thing as ... water, just because he had feared with what it would be charged with. Whatever this _what_ would be, he did not really want to know it.

And then, taking the glass away from the boy. Damn! Never before had he had to do such to a child! An adult, yes, but never to a child! None of his mistreated students thus far had been at a point where they feared a simple glass of water ... damn!

Swearing silently he again ran his hand over his face.

He began to wonder if he would be able to ... damn! This child refused a simple glass of water, refused food! He refused food, a simple bowl of soup, because his uncle had not given him his permission to eat! How would he be able to get Potter to eat anything?

Sighing heavily he somehow felt the confusing urge to run his fingers through the boy's hair, but just then he heard Poppy bustling around in her office and he quickly leaned back in his chair. Never mind how he just now felt towards the boy, he surely would not allow himself to show a soft spot in Poppy's presence by running his fingers through the boy's hair.

"You should go to bed and sleep a bit, Severus." Poppy's soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"I can't." He answered her simply.

"Then take a bath, take a drink of your Ogden's finest and at least try to go to bed. You should be ready for tomorrow. You know it will be a strenuous day."

"I know, Poppy." He said, his voice tired.

"Then just go, Severus!" The older which commanded. "You will do no good if you sit here the entire night, neither to the boy nor to yourself."

Severus sighed and then got to his feet. He gave a sad smile when no one noticed and quietly left the room. He frowned as his thoughts turned to the muggles who had treated Potter so poorly that he expected nothing but punishment. Sadly they would have to wait until tomorrow.

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Snape and Minerva, both are going to ensure that the Dursleys will be punished in an appropriate manner._

_...oO( ... poor Dursleys ... )_

_I am sure you will love this one … I only can say, I am very proud of Snape ..._

_/me is grinning evilly ..._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you


	9. time to pay back some depths

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ...

And yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Severus sighed and then got to his feet. He gave a sad smile when no one noticed and quietly left the room. He frowned as his thoughts turned to the muggles who had treated Potter so poorly that he expected nothing but punishment. Sadly they would have to wait until tomorrow._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter nine**

**Time to pay back some depths**

"May I inquire if this is the Dursleys residence?" Minerva asked when a thin, horse-faced woman opened the door.

She had remembered the day when Harry Potter had been brought this way and she easily had recognized this house. As she now recognized the woman. Petunia Dursley.

And now she – Minerva – was back here, while Severus was sitting in his office in the dungeons right now, preparing himself for dealing with Vernon Dursley.

The woman in front of her nodded. "And you are?"

_'What a display of manners.'_ Minerva thought. "I am Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration Professor and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry." She answered, knowing what kind of reaction this answer would cause. Yet – she did not care but pushed the door open so she could enter. "I am here on the behalf of your nephew Harry James Potter and the circumstances of the strange condition he is in."

"You ... how dare you entering this house without permission and accusing us of mistreating our nephew." Petunia screeched. "Vernon! Vernon, there is one of _them_!"

"I did not accuse you of anything yet, Mrs. Dursley." Minerva answered, crossing the hall and entering the living room where she could make out the form of a large whale. Just that this large whale was a human being, a man for to be correct, and she recognized Vernon Dursley who was waddling towards the living room door.

"What the hell ..." He did not get the chance to go on with his rant as Minerva just draw her wand and pointed it at him.

"I am not here for you, Mr. Dursley." She simply stated. "I am here for your wife, Petunia Dursley. You, Vernon Dursley, are awaited in the office of Severus Snape, Potions Master and head of Slytherin house at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, that for head of your nephew Harry James Potter. If you please would be as kind and take this portkey, Mr. Dursley?" She reached a piece of parchment towards the beefy hands, but Vernon Dursley did not take it. Instead he watched the wand warily.

"What do you want with this stick, woman?" He asked.

"This ... _stick_ ... is a wand, and if you refuse to do as I asked you to, be assured, Mr. Dursley, I will hex you into the next week. Now if you would be as kind and take the parchment."

"If the boy was up to something, it is not our problem." Vernon said darkly, curiosity overtaking his apprehension and taking the piece of parchment, not seeing Minerva smile. She had known that he would not take any portkey by free will, and so she had made one of a piece of parchment. A letter was always helpful.

"Severus Snape's office, Hogwarts." She said to activate the portkey and within an instant Vernon Dursley was gone.

She heard the startled scream of Petunia Dursley from behind her and with a satisfied expression on her face she turned to the woman.

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Vernon Dursley landed in front of his desk at the floor and for a second Severus Snape thought the stony ground would crack under the weight of this whale of a man and the impact of the landing. But of course this did not happen.

He remained standing behind his desk, his wand lazily in his hand by his side, and with a calm but cold glare he watched Dursley slowly getting to his feet, watching his surroundings. When his gaze fell onto the Potions Master's stern and cold face, his eyes grew widened for a moment, but he regained control over himself quickly.

Looking at the beefy man in front of him Snape gave his best sneer, enjoying how the muggle paled, his eyes flickering from his wand to his face.

"Where am I, and who are you?" He barked.

"If I am not mistaken," Snape sneered darkly, "Professor McGonagall has already told you where you would be awaited and who did await you. But just in case you are as dim-witted as some of my students are, you are in Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, in my office for to be precise, and I am Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master and head of Slytherin house which your nephew Harry Potter attends. And as the head of your nephew's house, I claim charges against you, Dursley."

"Hog ... potions ... charges ... Potter ..." Dursley spluttered and Snape couldn't help smirking coldly at the man in front of him.

"Listening to your skilled use of human language, Dursley, I cannot miss noticing that even the first year students are showing more eloquence in using verbal communication and are thus not as dim-witted as you are."

"What ... charges ... you dare claim charges against me? What do you accuse me of?" Dursley finally managed to ask.

With a few quick strides Severus rounded the desk and approached Dursley, glaring at the man with such a deathly stare that even the Dark Lord would have made a retreating step. Which Vernon Dursley quite did. "Child neglect, child abuse, rape and attempted murder." Snape answered calmly, watching the man getting from red-faced to pale and then back to red-faced.

"Are you ... are you crazy, man? I did no such thing!" He finally gasped, his voice rough, stumbling another step backwards.

Snape, all the incidents from the last days still fresh in his mind, the boy's terrified face in front of his mind's eyes, the memory of the night when Poppy and he had healed Potter, all the injuries and his starved appearance, his _conversation_ with the boy ending in the memories he had seen then, and the conversation he had had with Poppy and Minerva last evening still in the forefront of his awareness, gripped the collar of Dursley's shirt and with one swift move he shoved the other man against the stony wall, pinned him there with an iron grip. "Then pray tell, Dursley." He hissed in a slow and dangerous low voice. "Why is it that the boy just in this moment, is laying in a spare chamber in the hospital wing, and just a few steps away from death?"

Vernon finally got a good look at the man he was up against and his face twisted in terror. The man might be much thinner than Vernon was, but that grip and the low hiss had been enough to scare the shit out of him.

"Look." He winced pleadingly, trying a new approach. "I take it that you are a strict teacher. And you know how boy's are. That boy had gotten nothing that he had not coming. He is ..."

"Nothing, Dursley." Snape hissed, his grip tightening vicelike. "Absolutely nothing gives you the right to beat a child, to starve a child nearly to death and to rape a child! There is no excuse for this. And believe me, as strict as we may be, never, absolutely never, would we beat a child! Those who mistreat children are the lowest of the low. A child is not able to defend itself. To abuse those who depend on you is despicable."

"Look." Vernon Dursley tried again to reason with the Potions Master in front of him. "Look, this boy is dangerous! And I could not have allowed him to harm my family … "

"Do you really believe that any wizarding child that uses accidental magic would harm his own family, Dursley? How brainless are you? The wizarding world would be dead and wiped from the surface of this earth thousands of years ago. And besides of this, your reasoning has a lack, Dursley. If you truly had believed that Mr. Potter would be dangerous, then you never would have dared to harm him in any way in the first place." Snape spat. "You disgust me and it is time to pay the price for what you have done. And now – sit – down!"

Gasping for air and flinching when Snape tossed him towards the wooden chair in front of the desk, Dursley sat down, watching the Potions Master approach the table and he opened his mouth to say something, but the deathly glare he got from the teacher caused him to shut his mouth.

"Our medi-witch and I myself," Snape hissed, his voice dangerous low and Dursley gulped nervously, "we have been working on the boy for hours to heal him at least thus far that he _might_ survive. He is underweight in a manner that we are not even yet sure if he might live at all. Not to mention all the other wounds and injuries. Yet – as I guess that you are not interested in your nephew's welfare, I only will inform you that, as his head of house, I claim Harry Potter as mine. You will have no further rights over him. And you will have no further rights over any salary you got from the Ministry of Magic, department of child welfare."

Glad that he got away that easily Dursley nodded. "I do not have a problem with that. Take the damn brat. I do not wish to see him again anyway." He finally managed to say.

Snape sneered at him. "I will not only claim Mr. Potter, Dursley." He answered. "As your son is not of age yet, I will claim him as well, so to protect him from your violence. I await him as soon as you leave."

"No!" Dursley gasped. "You cannot ..."

"I can, and I will!" Snape growled. "As the head of Mr. Potter's house I have the right to claim Mr. Potter in a case of child abuse and you have much more than just this hovering over your head, Dursley. And thus I have the right to not only claim Mr. Potter, but every minor relative living in your household as well, and this I will do. Your son's arrival here is already prepared. And now you will sign the papers for both boys to hand them over into my care."

With this he placed the parchments in front of Dursley and held out a quill.

"Even you have something like a ministry, something like laws. And I am sure there is no such law you mentioned."

"And pray tell, Dursley, where did you come by this information?"

"I heard this freakish sister of Petunia mention the Ministry of Magic once. She worked for them. Together with her good for nothing husband before they got themselves blown up and we landed up with their even so freakish son in our house."

"You know nothing, Dursley!" Snape growled, leaning closer to Potter's uncle, enjoying the fear he evoked. "Would you know what the aurors who used to work for the ministry would do to you in order to punish you for child abuse, rape and attempted murder, you would be begging to deal with me only. You would face a life sentence in Azkaban, and believe me, Dursley, Azkaban is worse than your worst muggle prison. And not only did you abuse your nephew. You rapped him." Snape hissed. "You deserve to suffer deeply for what you have done, sadly however I do not have the time to deal with you as I would wish to. Nor do I believe that your nephew would handle the information of me slowly torturing you to death that well. And now sign this blasted papers before I change my mind and begin your torture with castrating you."

"I will not! You will not get away with this! I will ..."

"Are you trying to threaten me, Dursley?" Snape leaned forwards and his voice was so slow and dangerous that the hair at Dursley's beefy neck stood at all directions. "It seems you do not know whom you are dealing with. You seem to be under the impression that I am a simple and a harmless teacher. Yet – let me assure you, that I am much more than a simple teacher. I have faced men, men more evil than you can imagine. I have faced power, more dangerous than you would be able to think of. And I have done things, you would not even dare to dream of. Are you really trying to threaten me?"

"But you ..."

"Sign. Those. Papers. Dursley! Now!"

With a flinch and a growl over his face Dursley did as he was told. He knew, he better would not try and get into the way of this man. This man was dark, tough, and he could feel the power that radiated off him and nearly at once he knew this man would kill if he had to. No, he better got not into this one's way. But he would find a way later to undo this and get his Dudley back. Not Potter. This damn wizard could keep him to show him his tricks, or to murder him. But Dudley he would get back.

"And as for your punishment, Dursley." Snape continued. "You did not really think you would get away that easily, now did you? I will show you every pain you brought over Mr. Potter, physical as well as mental pain, every single pain you brought over the boy you will relive during your nighttimes. And every single pain he further will be in, and that is caused by your abuse as a secondary damage, you will feel as intense as he will feel it." He finished, waving his wand at Dursley. "Intribuo insomnium." He muttered the spell and then tipped his wand at the piece of parchment that had brought Dursley this way and muttered, "everto portatio."

He reached the parchment towards the beefy man. "Take this, Dursley!" He snarled. "It will bring the excuse of your human being back to where it belongs."

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"What do you want?" Petunia Dursley screeched, her eyes glued to the spot where her husband, Vernon Dursley, had disappeared. "What did you do to my husband? Where is he?"

"Your husband is neither your business nor mine, as he actually is Professor Snape's dealing." Minerva McGonagall answered in a calm voice. "_He_ will deal with him. You on the contrary will have to answer me, Mrs. Dursley. You, young Mr. Dursley, you will go to your room this instant and you will wait there for me to fetch you. You are under arrest. And now, a cup of tea would be appreciated, I guess." She added, walking towards the kitchen in the Dursley's household, wordlessly flicking her wand at the water pot on the oven and with a shriek whistle the water immediately began to boil.

Of course she had already considered what exactly she would ask, what she would say. But this action would give her time to rethink her words. She was not nervous. Minerva McGonagall was not a witch that easily got nervous. No, she only wanted to make no mistakes, neither in her wordings, nor in her actions. So she tried to calm herself with just making tea before anything else.

Petunia who slowly and with wobbling knees followed her into the kitchen gave a shrill cry away at the whistle the water pot immediately gave away, but made no movement to gather tea or cups at all and shaking her head Minerva waved her wand at the kitchen cupboard. At once one of the cabinet doors opened and two cups flowed through the kitchen, placed themselves at the table and at another wave of her wand a drawer opened and two teabags positioned themselves into the two cups.

Still ignoring Petunia Dursley she took the water pot off the oven and poured the hot water over the teabags before she placed the pot back onto the oven, silently berating the fact that she did not really like the thin and watery muggle tea that held no aroma at all.

Without a word she seated herself at the kitchen table.

"Even if you apparently do not show proper manners and thus your guests have to make their tea by themselves, I must ask you to have a seat, Mrs. Dursley, so we finally can discuss the subject of your nephew, Harry James Potter." She said, eying Petunia Dursley as the woman reluctantly took a seat opposite her at the kitchen table. Yet, Petunia did not touch the teacup and Minerva sneered in disgust at the muggle woman. A sneer that would have made Severus Snape proud of her.

"Now, Mrs. Dursley, would you care to tell me the reason as to why your nephew is laying in a bed in the hospital wing just as we now speak and why he is in the condition we just found him in?" Minerva finally asked.

"I do not know what you mean." Petunia answered, her high pitched voice even shriller than usually and slightly trembling. "We never hurt that boy."

"So you deny that you and your husband ever laid a hand on Mr. Potter?" Minerva asked, taking a sip of her tea but never leaving her eyes off the other woman.

"Of course we never did such a thing, and I wish you to leave this house now." Petunia demanded.

"I fear that is a request I cannot answer you, Mrs. Dursley." Minerva once again gave a silent wave with her wand and at once the glass of the kitchen door turned into slowly moving pictures.

Vernon Dursley, pushing Harry Potter against a wall, the front of his shirt in his fist. Vernon Dursley, shoving Potter against another wall, his meaty hand grasping around his throat. Petunia Dursley, backhanding the young wizarding boy. Vernon Dursley standing over Potter, curled up on the floor, while the man brought down a belt onto his victim. Dudley Dursley, shoving Potter down the stairs, laughing at him. Petunia Dursley, throwing a cup at Potter that hit him at the head. Vernon Dursley …

The pictures went on and Petunia gasped in horror while Minerva held her breath at what she saw before she turned back to the woman in front of her, the cup of tea forgotten. She wasn't thirsty any more now. She felt sick to her stomach and she had to grit her teeth and to curl her hands into fists to prevent them from trembling with rage. How could they … how could they tread any child like this?

"I think, this is prove enough, Mrs. Dursley." Minerva said, her voice low and laced with anger. "If you now would please answer me the question as to how many meals a day Mr. Potter got in your household?"

Petunia, her face as white as the kitchen floor now, took a breath, straightened her shoulders and shoved her chin upwards in defy. "As many as our Dudley got of course. Three."

"You surely cannot tell me that your son got only three meals a day. He looks like he did nothing else but eating all day long. On the other hand your nephew doesn't look either as if he had three meals a day, if he got even one. So the truth this time, if you please."

"How dare you telling me a liar!" Petunia screeched. "How dare you …"

Once again Minerva waved her wand in a silent spell, and this time it was the door of the refrigerator that turned black, just like a blackboard, and words written with white chalk appeared in two lists. One with the name of Dudley Dursley on top and the other one with the name of Harry Potter at the top.

The one concerning Dudley Dursley clearly showed five full meals a day during the past few months.

The one relating to Harry Potter clearly showed two or three meals a week during the past few months. Slowly other words appeared beneath the list of Harry Potter.

_'This boy got nothing out of me. He only got the stale bread from the sideboard to my left and water from the faucet.'_

Once again Petunia Dursley gave away a startled cry while Minerva closed her eyes for a moment to collect herself before she slowly rose to her feet.

"I have had a few more questions, Mrs. Dursley, but I have to admit I have seen quite enough." Minerva finally nearly whispered. Yet, as low as her voice was, the pure anger was clearly audible in the otherwise silent room. "I only can ask you, Mrs. Dursley, how could you? How could you do such to a child? And to your sister's son at all? Lily Evans, your sister, has been a student of mine. She has been a very skilled and a very brave and good hearted witch. She never hurt others, and she ever would have helped. Tell me, would the situation has been reversed, and your son would have been in Lily's care, do you not think that she would have provided him with all her love as if he were her own child? Why could you do not show her son the same favour?"

Of course she got no answer to this and sighing sadly she continued. "I now have to inform you that – with this evidence clear – Professor Severus Snape, head of Slytherin house of Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry and thus head of the house your nephew attends, has claimed guardianship over said nephew Harry James Potter."

"And you think my husband or I by myself will mind?" Petunia Dursley now laughed. "I do not care. Take the little freak. You should have done so earlier so we would not have been bothered with him. We would not have him back here anyway."

"I fear you do not really realize what my words meant, Mrs. Dursley." Minerva answered calmly. "But as you have proven yourself of being incapable to raise children, Professor Severus Snape will – with the evidence given a few moments ago – claim guardianship over your son Dudley Dursley as well." She explained.

"But that … you cannot … he cannot … that …."

"I am sure there is nothing more to say, Mrs. Dursley." Minerva interrupted her babbling words and with a lazy flick of her wand Petunia Dursley's mouth moved without words coming out, thus forcing her to listen. "The same portkey that will bring your husband back here will take your son to Hogwarts where Professor Snape already awaits him. And now to your punishment, Mrs. Dursley. For the time being, you will feel every pain you once brought over your nephew during the years until you have paid your guilt. After this, you will feel every pain Mr. Potter feels, as long as this pain is caused by your mistreatment and abuse as lingering effects. Intribuo insomnium." She muttered, raising her wand at the terrified woman who sank back into her chair, visibly defeated. Minerva guessed, as her sister had been a witch, and a good one at that, Petunia knew all to well that this was neither a joke nor a simple trick, but reality. This was happening. And apparently she knew the consequences.

With a grim face Minerva went upstairs and entered the bedroom she knew was Dudley Dursley ones and without knocking she opened the door and stepped in, startling and frightening the boy into crawling further towards the wall behind his bed.

"You may now pay attention, Mr. Dursley." She said with a still strict face and voice. "You are awaited at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry by Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin house and your new guardian until you come of age. A house elf will arrive soon to pack your belongings and bring your trunk to said school. At least those of your belongings that you will be in of need there."

Ignoring the horrified look an Dudley Dursley's face she thrust a small piece of parchment into his hand, muttered the words "Severus Snape's office, Hogwarts" and within a few seconds the boy was gone, leaving an empty bedroom before she herself turned and went downstairs, left the house without a backwards glance at Petunia and Vernon Dursley which now both were sitting in the kitchen with shocked faces.

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A moment later an as beefy boy as the man had been landed at the floor in front of him and Snape groaned. This was the cousin of Potter? What a shocking contradiction. Did this boy ever do anything else than eat?

For a moment he was tempted to handle the boy in front of him carefully in case he had been abused as well, just as Potter had been. But then he remembered the vision in which this boy had beaten Potter with the cane, down in the cellar at Privet Drive and his blood began to boil. No, considering this vision and the fact that this boy surely was everything else than underweight, that this boy had seemingly gotten all the food the Dursleys had denied Potter, no, this boy surely was not abused.

"Sit down, Mr. Dursley!" He ordered, his voice filled with menace.

"Where 'm I? And who're you?" The boy asked as soon as he stood in front of the desk.

"It is not your place to ask questions, Mr. Dursley!" Snape spat, placing his hands at the surface of the desk and leaning forwards onto the furniture. "Sit down! Now!"

The whale-boy quickly did as he was told and luckily he held his tongue this time.

"Good!" Snape snarled. "Your name is Dudley Dursley, I take it?"

A nod came from the boy and Snape glared at him.

"An answer, if you are capable of showing manners in any kind, Mr. Dursley." Snape ordered.

"Yes."

"Yes what, Mr. Dursley?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Good." Snape let out a breath of disgust and stood back, his hands folded behind his back. "Now you listen to me, and you better listen close to me, Mr. Dursley, for I will not repeat myself."

At the nod from the boy he continued. "As for your questions, you are currently at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, and I am Professor Snape, Potions Master and head of Slytherin house. And as your cousin Harry Potter, who attends my house, has been severely abused by your parents, I claimed guardianship over him. And over you as well."

"What?" Came the shocked scream.

"Silence!" Snape ordered. "As the head of Mr. Potter's house I have the right to do so. I have the right to claim guardianship over any abused child in my care and to claim charges against this ones parents, as I now did. Thus I have the right to claim guardianship over every other minor child in the abusive household to protect said minors. What in this case means – you."

"But ..."

Snape stopped and slammed his hand down on the table.

"Silence I said." Snape growled and Dudley stopped. Minerva had told him what this boy was like, what she had observed more than nine years earlier, the tantrums the brat had thrown by not getting what he wanted. And watching this one, well-fed as he was, and well-dressed, he did not doubt Minerva's words.

But somehow the boy seemed to know that he better not risked anything with this man in front of him.

"As you are a muggle, a none magical human being, you cannot attend all classes. Yet – you will attend Hogwarts. You will attend potions lessons – with me, as I am the Potions Professor. You as well will attend astronomy, history of magic, herbology, arithmancy, ancient runes, and care of magical creatures. As you are not a wizard, you will not be sorted into a house. Nevertheless as I am your guardian I place you into my house, in Slytherin. You will attend the Slytherin common room, you will have your meals at the Slytherin table in the great hall and you will attend classes with the Slytherins. Any questions thus far?"

"You can't do this!" Dudley protested with a raised voice.

"I can, and I will, Mr. Dursley." Snape growled dangerously. "And you better never ever again raise your voice against me or any other teachers within this school. You will address me as sir or as professor and you will show respect towards me as well as towards every other teacher within Hogwarts."

"But ... but ..."

"There are no buts, Mr. Dursley. And now follow me!"

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Dudley Dursley really had had problems keeping up with the Potions Master's long and swift strides and now he was panting heavily as they entered the infirmary.

In the contrary to Potter, Dursley did not seem to fear the infirmary or medical care at all and Snape was not really surprised. He was pretty sure that Potter's cousin was – apart from his overweight – in a pretty good health. He was sure that Dursley hat not beaten his son as he had done with his nephew. Nevertheless, he was not ready to take a risk and would ensure that Poppy would have a look at him. After all that had been the reason he had taken this – _boy_ – into custody at least.

Well, no. That had not been the real reason, at least not the entire reason. It was part of his punishment for the Dursleys as well. The Dursleys would, in losing their son, be reminded what they had done to an innocent child. And Dudley Dursley, well, he would learn here to overcome his cut and dried opinions.

"Poppy?" Snape asked when he strode to the medi-which. "Would you please have a look at Mr. Dursley? He is the cousin of Mr. Potter, and as I have taken custody over him, I wish to ensure that his wellbeing is satisfactorily."

"Of course, Severus." Poppy answered, casting a questioning gaze at the Potions Master and then a shocked look at the boy. This boy was related to Harry Potter? Was even living in the same household as Mr. Potter? Well, the difference to Harry Potter was just grotesque. "If you would sit at this bed please, Mr. Dursley?" She said, shaking her head.

Snape watched as Dudley waddled towards the bed and heaved his mass of a body onto the comforter, wondering if the cot would break under the weight. The contrast to the small, skeletal body of Potter was just unnerving. It was plain that the Dursleys had been feeding this boy all the food they had denied Potter, and his gaze darkened more and more.

Madam Pomfrey drew her wand and Dudley Dursley immediately gave away a startled gasp. "What do you want with this stick?" He asked in a loud voice. "Put this stick away ..."

"You will regard Madam Pomfrey with the same respect as you will regard me and the other teachers, Dursley." Snape barked. "And as you now will be living within the wizarding world, I guess you better get used to the sight of a wand."

Dudley glared at him but he was wise enough to keep his tongue. But he continued to eye the wand Poppy now waved over him warily and Snape could not suppress a cold sneer. Despite his better knowledge he indeed did look forward to have this – well, _boy_ – in his potions classroom. What only would be in less than two hours.

It took the medi-which only a few minutes until she lowered her wand and turned to Snape. "Besides of his overweight the boy is in good health. In the contrary to Mr. Potter this boy has not been abused."

"Abused?" Dudley asked taken aback. "Potter? The freakish thing got nothing he had not been ..."

Before he could finish his sentence Snape was in front of him and he silenced him with one wave of his hand and a dark glare. "Should I once again hear you referring the term _'freakish thing'_ towards Mr. Potter, then I will ensure you, you will be punished severely. You will address your cousin with either Mr. Potter or Harry. I do not care which. Did I make myself clear?"

"Yes , sir." Dudley answered, as Snape had demanded from him earlier, his eyes warily resting at the man's dark form, at his black robes and his cold black eyes. He knew better than to disobey this man. He could feel that this man was no one to lightly cross his path. And he was not only a teacher, but a head of a house, whatever that would be. Not to mention his new guardian.

But what was worst, this man seemed to take sides. Potter's side. He knew he would have to be very careful. And if he was honest with himself, he feared this man. He feared this Snape would be the same to him as his father had been to Potter. Yet – was a teacher at this school here allowed to beat their students?

Surely not. Were they?

"I will inform the house elves in the kitchens of a special diet plan for Mr. Dursley." Poppy explained to the Potions Master. "I want him to visit me twice a week for weighing. This overweight we better get under control."

"I will ensure that he will stick to his diet, Poppy. Is Mr. Dursley ready to leave?" Severus answered, again in a cold sneer.

"Yes, Severus, Mr. Dursley may leave. Please ensure he comes back at Monday before dinner."

With a short nod Snape gestured Dudley to follow him and turned to leave.

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"Attention, please." Snape growled as he – fifteen minutes later and a panting Dudley Dursley in his track – entered the stuffed common room of his Slytherins. "This is Dudley Dursley. He is a muggle. Nevertheless he will attend Hogwarts for the time being. I placed him into my house for reasons not important yet. He will get a timetable this evening after dinner and he will attend lessons and meals together with you. He will sleep in the first years dormitory as I am sure the house elves has already attached a bed for him to this chamber. Mr. Flint, I expect you to explain the house rules to Mr. Dursley."

"Of course, professor." Flint said without questioning the strange news. A muggle at Hogwarts? He never had heard of such! He was not even sure if such was possible. What subjects would he have? Potions maybe, as he would not necessarily need a wand in potions. Well, herbology, maybe. And history of magic. Yet – somehow he failed to see the point in a muggle attending Hogwarts.

"As Mr. Dursley is on a special diet that is important to his health, you all will ensure that he will be kept from eating sweets and other things he is not allowed to consume. I am sure none of you is ready to face detention for disregarding his diet plan that Madam Pomfrey will pin to the board beneath your menu plan." Snape added, his face still motionless. Yet, his eyes darted from student to student.

"Mr. Dursley, you will listen to Mr. Flint who is the prefect of Slytherin house and you will follow his orders. Disobedience will implicate punishment. Any questions?"

"What's with my things?" Dudley asked and most of the Slytherins gasped at the lack of respect in his tone of voice.

"I am sure professor McGonagall will bring your belongings which you will be in need of here, Mr. Dursley. And detention this evening at eight with Mr. Filch for your loss of respect towards a teacher."

He turned to his other Slytherins. "If there are any problems, do not hesitate to address me at once. The first years – including Mr. Dursley – will meet me for double potions in an hour." Then he turned and left the common room, headed back to his private quarters. He would prepare his next lesson with the first years Slytherins and Gryffindors and after lunch he would pick up Potter from the infirmary.

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Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry knew exactly that every one of the first year students was sitting in his classroom now, most likely chatting in excitement to each other, when he threw open the door with a loud bang and stormed into the dimly lit dungeon chamber, his robes billowing behind him.

He did not cast an open glance at the students sitting at the small writing tables, but out of the corner of his eyes he noticed startled faces and fearful eyes that watched him as he quickly strode towards his desk in front of the class. Standing behind the dark wooden furniture he sharply turned on his heels and stood in front of the class now, his arms crossed over his chest. He overlooked the students with his piercing black eyes, holding eye contact with every single student, forcing them with his commanding gaze to look into his eyes until each of the first years dropped their gazes. Except for Draco.

Well, he hadn't expected otherwise. His godson knew him too well and too long. Maybe he had just spoiled him too much. But then – no, he was no one to spoil children in the first place and he surely had not done so with Draco. Even if he had been much nicer to him as he had been to any other children he ever had the opportunity to meet over his thirty-one years of lifetime.

Dudley Dursley, sitting beside Blaze Zabini with a pale face, he noticed, gulped heavily and he couldn't help smirking with disdain clearly written in his dark and cold eyes at him for a moment. He had no doubt that he would have trouble with this particular student. Dursley was a bully, that much was clear to him from the moment he had laid eyes upon him this very morning, and he knew that Dursley was as stupid as Crabbe and Goyle were.

"I am sure few of you will ever learn to have a high esteem for the art of brewing a correct potion or to appreciate the simple subject at all." He began, his speech with a low and silken voice, speaking slowly and clearly. "Not to mention to acquire the talent of fine tuning the art of creating a new draught in the first place as it is need of skills and knowledge required here concerning the correct preparation of each ingredients, the interaction of the necessary items with each other, the correct temperature at each step and the correct stirring without the foolish wand moving which other subjects taught here in Hogwarts are depending on."

His dark eyes, running over the students during his speech, came to a rest on some of the Gryffindor students. A red haired boy, a Weasley, the youngest of the Weasley boys for to be correct, a girl with long brown hair, Granger, Muggleborn, and an inconsiderable boy with dark short hair. Neville Longbottom. Son of Alice and Frank Longbottoms, aurors of their days, both in St. Mungos now since the last war with the Dark Lord and currently living with his grandmother.

"Yet the art of brewing a correct potion is a virtue that – when mastered – will allow you to create peace, to stir healing, brew glory, bottle power and … to stopper death."

There his eyes wandered to Draco and with a trace of sorrow he noticed the eager smirk that lightened the boy's face at his words.

The Malfoy family always had favoured glory, power and pride. Well, rather arrogance than actually pride. And he knew that Lucius Malfoy surely did not detain from murder to gain his goals. Nor did he ever think the Dark Arts as a crime at all. He favoured them and they provided him well in his ambitions.

Yet he hoped that he could at least spare Draco the fate his father had stepped on so many years ago.

"Some of the potions I will teach you here in this class are complicated and potentially dangerous and that for I will not tolerate laziness, incompetence, disobedience or carelessness."

Here his eyes came to rest upon Dursley, and he shot him a dark glare that made sure he would have an extra eye on this boy, that made said boy tremble slightly he noticed with a satisfied smirk on his face. Good, the bully would soon learn that he had to bend to him if he wished to survive in his house without ending up as a disgusting ingredient for one of his potions.

"Thus … any conversations not belonging into this class are to be held outside this chamber at all. I require absolute silence and concentration from all of you in my class. Who ever is courageous enough to chitchat here during lessons will leave this classroom immediately without another word of warning and will gain zero marks for the day's work."

Again his gaze wandered into the direction of the Gryffindor tables to his right. His Slytherins he easily had under control. They normally were too intelligent to pull any stupid stunts when being in his class. No. The Gryffindors were those who normally were troublemakers. Especially when one of said Gryffindors was a Weasley.

"We will begin this term by learning Valetudo's laws of illnesses and diseases and the studies of required medical potions. We will start with a simple potion for a cold. Open page twenty-one of your potions books, start reading chapter two, the description of said disease and its identifying characteristics and take notes. You will write an assay on the disease and the potion it requires, two feet, to be handed in next lesson on Monday afternoon. After you have read this chapter silently go to the store cupboard, gather the required ingredients and begin to prepare them. The ingredients and the descriptions are on the board."

With a wordless flick of his wand the list of ingredients and the description of how to brew the potion appeared on the blackboard.

"There will be no need to converse during your work. Begin!"

An hour later all the students had been getting up to gather the required ingredients and most had already begun to add one after one into the cauldron between stirring and correcting temperature while others – like Neville Longbottom and Dudley Dursley were still busy with powdering the dried black beetle eyes.

Snape sat behind his desk, reading through the student lists of his Slytherins. He still had to plan the appointments for visiting the first years student's parents and families. None of the other teachers did so, he knew, not even Minerva. But he wanted to know where his students came from, where they lived at home, what kind of people their parents were, their families.

Yes – in contrast to what the students said about him, being a greasy git, a dungeons bat, and a cold hearted bastard that didn't like teaching and that didn't care about his students, he _did _care. He did care a lot for his students. Even if he never would admit _that_ to any of them.

A small explosion that came from the Slytherin-side of the classroom startled him out of his thoughts and with a quick wave of his wand the smoke that was settling over the cauldrons in the chamber diminished into nothing and he quickly glanced around, looking for injuries or panic attacks and he was glad that the first potion he ever let the first years brew was a simple and harmless one.

Yet – knowing that even this harmless potion could explode and cause injuries, he let his dark eyes roam over the students, finding no injuries and only a few pale faces and trembling hands, but easily finding the cause of the explosion.

"Class dismissed." He growled darkly. "Except for you, Mr. Dursley."

The students all hurried to leave the potions classroom, and Snape continued to go through his lists, waiting until everyone has filled out and only Dudley Dursley stood in front of his desk. He waited a few minutes more, finishing his task, knowing that Dursley would grow more and more nervous by the minute.

Finally he looked up, got to his feet, standing tall and dark behind his desk, his hands resting behind his back while his dark eyes gazed coldly at the whale of a boy.

"As it seems, you do feel no need to pay any attention to what is written on the board, Mr. Dursley?" Snape asked his voice as cold as his eyes.

"I'm not a … a … a wizard!" Dudley answered angrily, nearly chocking at the word 'wizard'. "How 'm I s'posed to know that stuff?"

"Brewing a potion has nothing to do with magic in the first place, Mr. Dursley, but with knowledge and attention." Snape snarled, placing his hands at the desktop and leaning forwards. "Every idiot would be able to do so. At least if this idiot would be able to read what is written at the board and follow simple instructions. But as you are not able to do so, I guess, remedial potions is in order. And prepare yourself for the simple fact, that next time the potion you will be brewing, will be tested. And it will be you who will test your own potion. I am sure the effects will be – rather – interesting. You are dismissed."

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**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Into the dungeon – Severus brings Harry into his quarters and learns that the boy is not as easy to handle as he originally had thought and he begins to doubt that he would be able to handle Harry at all …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you


	10. into the dungeons

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ...

And yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"Every idiot would be able to do so. At least if this idiot would be able to read what is written at the board and follow simple instructions. But as you are not able to do so, I guess, remedial potions is in order. And prepare yourself for the simple fact, that next time the potion you will be brewing, will be tested. And it will be you who will test your own potion. I am sure the effects will be – rather – interesting. You are dismissed."_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter ten**

**Into the dungeons**

"You are not allowed to eat _that_, Dursley!"

The silent hiss directly beside his ear made Dursley jump and quickly he tried to hide the chocolate cake he had snitched from the great hall earlier behind his back, looking into the grey eyes of the blond boy beside him.

"Give me that!" Draco hissed, taking the cake from the beefy hands of the other boy and throwing it into the dustbin under the nearest desk. "I do not wish to get into detention because of you!"

For a moment Dudley Dursley looked as if he was going to protest, but seeing the other students around them, watching them with curious and dark faces, he thought better than this.

"Well, Dursley." Draco Malfoy then asked, his eyes narrowed in disgust at the fat boy in front of him, wondering if this one ever stopped eating in his previous life. At least, not even Crabbe and Goyle had gotten a diet from Madam Pomfrey. And that meant something. "What are you, a muggle, doing here at Hogwarts?"

"I've been kidnapped by Snape, and if my father …"

"That is _professor_ Snape to you, Dursley." Draco snarled, and a few other students in the Slytherin common room now looked at Dursley with the same disgust as Draco.

Yes, the students of the other houses hated Professor Snape. They called him names like greasy git, or giant dungeon bat, even greasy bastard. But the Slytherin students loved their head of house. The professor always had been there for them, he always cared for them and he always tried to help them as good as he could. Be it with their parents that were Death Eaters or with the other teachers that were handling them unfairly. And many of them knew exactly what a thin line their professor was walking.

"And the professor surely did not _kidnap_ you, Dursley." Draco growled at the muggle boy in front of him. "He surely had a reason to bring you here. So, why?"

"He _did_ kidnap me!" Dursley shouted in anger. "And all of this just because of Potter! When my father finds out, he surely will …"

"He! Did! Not!" Draco snarled back, leaning close to the other boy. "He never would kidnap anyone! And thus your father surely knows already where you are! And what has it to do with Potter anyway?"

There was silence in the common room. Every single Slytherin student was wondering why in Merlin's name Professor Snape would place a muggle in Hogwarts. And every single one of them wanted an answer. And now they listened to the argument between Draco and Dursley with quite interest.

"He said Potter was abused by my father, what is quite a lie!" Dursley growled back with trembling lips, and Draco could see he was close to tears.

"Do you call Professor Snape a liar?" Draco asked threateningly.

"If Professor Snape said that Potter has been abused by your father, then it is so, Dursley." Marcus Flint, the Slytherin prefect interrupted as Draco was about to go against the new student. The last thing he just now wanted, was a fight in the common room. He only would have to explain this to Professor Snape then. "Professor Snape always knows what he does and he knows the signs of abuse. So, I guess the professor has taken Potter to the infirmary. One riddle solved then, we at least now know where Potter is. And considering the fact that Potter is not back in the dormitory yet, I guess he is still in the infirmary. What proves to me that Professor Snape not only has been right, but that the abuse has been severe. Mostly the students come back within a few hours after Professor Snape took them to the hospital wing."

"So what if?" Dursley asked. "That gives him no right over me."

"You are wrong, Dursley." Flint said. "As Professor Snape is the head of our house he has every right to get you out of an abusive household. But what exactly has your father to do with Potter?" He then asked.

"This damn little freakish thing is my cousin." Dursley answered.

Flint and a few other students, including Draco, looked startled at each others.

"So Potter lived in the same household as _you_? With your parents?" Draco wanted to know, asking the question that every other one of the Slytherins had had in mind.

"Of course!" Dursley answered as if this was a stupid question to ask. "Since the time his parents died nine or ten years ago."

"So, pray tell, Dursley, why is it then, that you are as fat as a whale when your cousin is as thin as a stick?" Draco finally asked, his curiosity taking the upper hand, and a few of the other students that were surrounding the two first year students were nodding their heads. They, of course, had seen how thin Potter was, and now watching this boy, Dursley, it was – well, quite a difference.

"What do you mean?" Dursley asked growling. How dare this boy calling him a whale? "Picking already sides, are you? What lies has Potter told you? He has whined at you how bad he has been treated, hasn't he? But believe me, he got nothing he did not deserve. He is dangerous, and he is a freak, not worth anything but a good beating!"

Draco cast a disgusting glance at Dursley and with a thoughtful look on his face he turned and left the other boy, walking towards the desk he had been sitting at before he had noticed Dursley eating a cake he was not allowed to. Potter had told him nothing! He had not spoken to him at all! And slowly he began to understand why.

If Potter really had been abused, and he did not doubt it if uncle Severus had said so, then maybe Potter was not the slow and dim witted coward that considered himself above everyone else. Maybe his godfather had been right, and he should see the strange behavior Potter showed the first two days in Hogwarts not as arrogance but as …

As what exactly?

Fear? Insecurity?

But why had he not eaten when he was hungry? And considering how thin he was, he surely _had _been hungry? Now, had he not been? But why then had he not eaten?

Turning towards Dursley he watched the boy that was … well, four times as big and beefy as Potter was. At least.

"Dursley!" He shouted through the common room. "Care to tell me, if you know why Potter did not eat in the great hall when he arrived here on Monday?"

The other boy gave an evil smirk and with a pleased tone in his voice he answered. "So, Potter did not eat? Well, that's good, so father had made a point and for once in his damn life the freak did as he had been told!"

With a nearly shocked expression on his face Draco slowly got up from the chair he sat in and walked over towards the other boy who still sat there with a satisfied smirk on his pig-like face.

"Are you telling me, Dursley, that your father had forbidden him to eat?" He asked in a dangerous low voice, his grey eyes as cold as ice. That surely could not be possible. Never mind who Potter was, never mind what …

"Of course. He is a freak! And our food is too good for him! Why should …"

Clenching his hands into fists Draco had a hard time to control himself, to not punch his fist into the other boy's smirking face and abruptly he turned on his heels and went back to his desk, collecting his books and parchments and went to the door. He had to talk to uncle Severus.

His godfather had been right.

So they had starved Potter. That explained a lot and he felt quite ill. And somehow guilty for the behaviour he had shown towards Potter.

Of course, his father never had been really kind towards him, and he himself had gotten some beatings from the elder Malfoy. But never that worse that he had been ended up in a hospital. Never had his father starved him and he was not even able to think of what it felt like being hungry.

But then again, why had Potter not eaten in the great hall? His uncle had not been present back then. He surely could not have been _that_ frightened of him that he would obey such stupid commands when the commanding person was not even present?

Well, maybe he just was.

And maybe he should not use the potion his father had sent him on Potter. No!

_Surely_ he should not use this potion on Potter. He should not use this potion at all. And maybe he just should give the vial together with the letter to uncle Severus.

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By looking into the tired green eyes it was clear that Potter had been awake since a while now and Snape's expression was as dark as ever as he crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his upper arm with his fingers nervously, while he wondered if he really should take Potter down into the dungeons right now, or if he better let him take one more nights sleep in the infirmary.

Truth to be told, he did not really look forward to having Potter in his private quarters. Potter of all people! The son of his childhood enemy! The son of James Bloody Potter! That was just ridiculous! Yet – that was what would take place, Harry James Potter being in his quarters for a few weeks. No, he really did not look forward to this.

Even if he knew well that it was the best they could do, and he reminded himself that it was not Potter's fault but the fault of this horrid muggles named Dursleys.

_'He is James' son, but he is not James himself. He really rather reminds me of Lily. And Lily was your friend after all.'_ He thought, just to ensure he would be calm enough to handle the boy right now.

This boy was already frightened enough, and considering the condition they had found him in, considering what those damn muggles had done to him, it was no wonder. He knew, he would have quite a hard time to get Potter to trust him.

"This evening I will take you back down into the dungeons, Potter." He finally said in a low and calm tone of voice while standing at the foot of the bed, watching the boy. "Though, not into your dormitory, but into my quarters where you can rest and heal properly. There you will stay for a few weeks under my care so I can have a closer eye on you than it would be possible would you be in your dormitory. And here you would not have the peace you need to heal properly as the infirmary surely is not off limits to other students."

He clearly could read the expression on Potter's face, showing blank fear, terror, and he watched him close. What exactly did the boy fear? Of course, he knew the boy had not only been beaten and starved. Potter had been sexually abused. How should he trust him, _why_ even should he trust him? And now he was supposed to move into his personal quarters.

He knew he would have to bring up this subject soon. His blasted relatives. But right now, seeing the mingled exhaustion and anxiety on the boy's thin face, Severus decided that it wasn't the best time to mention the Dursleys.

Gritting his teeth he sighed. No, this really would not be easy.

"Rest for a few minutes while I speak to Madam Pomfrey so she can release you, Potter." He said, keeping his voice low and gentle. "Then I will take you down into the dungeons. And Potter, you do not have anything to worry about. Nothing will happen there. I will not hurt you, nor will I do you any harm. You will be perfectly safe with me." He added before he turned to walk towards the office of the medi-witch, his robes billowing behind him as usual.

Harry lay in the – for his liking – much too large bed, not knowing what to do, his mind swirling like mad, but he could find no way to avoid thinking of what Professor Snape had just announced.

He was supposed to accompany his teacher into his private quarters for not only a moment, not only a day, not only for detention or something like this, but for a few weeks and he definitely feared this prospective.

He did not really want to think at the many things this man could do to him while he was with him, but he was not able to keep his mind off these thoughts. What if Professor Snape was as violent as uncle Vernon had been? What if he punished and beat him as quickly as uncle Vernon had done? What if he wanted even more? What if he …

Gritting his teeth and curling his fingers into fists he tried to keep the tears of frustration at bay. He would not cry. He just had to be strong! He could not show his professor his weakness if he wanted to survive this relatively unharmed. He just had to be strong as always. And he knew he could do this.

He was used to this. It was nothing else than he'd had the past ten years and the professor surely could not be more evil as uncle Vernon had been, now could he?

He thought of the Potions Professor and his gaze wandered into the direction of the office where he could see the man talking with the medi-witch.

He seemed to be calm. And he knew his voice was calm as well, and low. He never seemed to raise his voice. And thus far he had made no move to beat him, or to harm him in any other way. Not even to scream at him. In the contrary. He seemed to be understanding, as if he wanted to help. He even had given him something to eat.

For a moment he shuddered at that thought. If uncle Vernon would have found out …

No, maybe it would be better not to think at uncle Vernon at this moment. He could deal with these thoughts when he was chucked out of Hogwarts and had to go back.

On the other hand again, Professor Snape seemed to be a dark and cold man. And he knew his eyes could be cold and hateful. He had seen the gaze he had cast at him during the welcome feast, in the common room when he had explained the Slytherin house rules to them, and during the meals in the great hall.

For some reason the professor did not like him, did hate him.

Maybe uncle Vernon was right after all. He was a freak, a worthless thing and nothing more. Nothing good could ever come out of him. He was evil and he caused every one around him to see his evilness and his freakishness, to react to his evilness and his freakishness. No one could ever love him, not even like him, and no one …

Soft words startled him out of his thoughts and he had to gather all his will to not flinch back in his fear. So this was it. His time was up. And gritting his teeth he forced himself to look at the professor who stood beside his bed, too close to him for his liking, but he forced himself to ignore this fact.

"Are you ready?" Harry was – not for the first time – surprised at the gentle tone that was so different from the tone the professor had used at him during the first two days and he slowly nodded. Even if he did _not_ feel ready. How could he ever feel ready for this?

He was even more surprised at how gently Snape's hand curled around his upper arm as he helped him out of the bed and to stand beside the man.

Snape watched the boy close when he returned from Poppy's office. They had discussed the last concerns and then the medi-witch had released Potter into his care. The boy looked as if being lost deep in his thoughts and he watched him for a few moments before he asked him if he was ready.

After a moment Potter nodded, nearly reluctant, and Snape could see that the boy had replaced his mask over his face to cover his true feelings. Watching the boy even closer he sighed sadly. He would rather not have him to wear his mask. Yet – it did not really matter. He was a spy, and if _he_ was not able to see behind this mask, then no one was.

So he nodded back and reached his left hand towards Potter, moving as slowly and as carefully as ever during the past two days, and never leaving his eyes off the boy's face he gently gripped Potter's upper arm to help him out of the bed and to ensure he would not collapse as soon as he stood onto those two sticks he called legs.

"I will change your pyjamas into your Jeans and jumper this time." Snape said while he pulled his wand out and waved it over the boy. "I am sure you do not want to walk through the corridors wearing nothing but pyjamas." He added and within an instant Harry stood there, wearing his blue Jeans, including the belt that kept the Jeans in place and a much too large brown and worn out jumper that nearly reached his knees.

Raising his left eyebrow Snape shook his head and waved his wand a second time, over the Jeans and jumper this time and both pieces of clothing slowly shrank until they fitted perfectly.

Potter cast a surprised look down his clothes, nearly holding his breath, and then looked at him and for a moment he thought he saw gratitude blazing in those green eyes before they were overrun with fear.

Of course, the Potions Master sighed, Potter thought he would have to pay for the shrinking of his clothes.

"There is no need to fear a payback over such a thing as a simple shrinking spell, Potter. So stop worrying and put on your shoes." Snape growled. Yet, it was not his usual growl but a low and gentle one. Nearly a warm growl and he wondered if he was about to go insane. Shaking his head he watched The-Boy-Who-Was-About-To-Destroy-His-Reputation-Bit-By-Bit slipping into – how could it be otherwise – much too large trainers and again he waved his wand, at the shoes this time, and amused he watched the startled expression on Potter's face that changed into a grateful and then into a fearful one.

Sighing in frustration he grasped Potter's cloak and gently placed the fabric over the boy's thin shoulders, resting his hands for a moment at the shoulders while watching into the fearful eyes, before he slightly nodded and then again curled his fingers around the bony upper arm of the boy, ignoring the slight flinch that Potter immediately tried to suppress, and guided him out of the infirmary and down the corridors.

Harry moved as if in a daze, allowing Snape's hands to guide him along the corridors, down the stairs and into his quarters. He was still expecting some sort of disaster to occur, but the presence of this guiding hand around his upper arm was somehow anchoring him to reality, assuring him that nothing terrible would happen, at the moment at least.

Severus Snape led his student down the stony corridor through the dim lit dungeons leading to his personal quarters. He kept the fingers of his left hand curled lightly around the boy's right upper arm, once again silently cursing at the Dursleys when he clearly could feel the bones under his hand.

He could have led Potter down here without any touch, yet – he knew the boy would have to get used to such small touches and other social interactions. And besides of this, he did not want Potter to walk behind him like a slave or minor person. With his hand curled around his arm he ensured that he had to walk beside him, even a bit in front of him.

He walked slowly, very slowly, and it seemed to take an eternity for them to reach his personal quarters, but he knew that even this slow pace would tire Potter and he had no intention to exaggerate things. He knew that he had to be careful. The boy was just too thin and too weak and he was glad when they finally arrived.

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Placing the fingertips of his right hand lightly against the wooden surface of the door to his quarters and muttering a silent "custodis", the door opened and with a soft increase of the grip he had on the thin arm Snape gently led Potter inside and the door closed behind them.

He had noticed the boy shivering with cold more and more the deeper they got into the dungeons and shaking his head, gritting his teeth with anger he – not for the first time this day – cursed the Dursleys. Of course the boy was freezing, having no reserves, having nothing on his bones that would keep him warm.

'Incendio' He thought while concentrating onto the fireplace as soon as they entered the large living area, finally releasing Potter's arm, and without moving his hand, without using his wand the flames in the fireplace came to life. Thin as the boy was he guessed he was cold enough down here in the dungeons and he did not wish him to get any worse as he already was.

Potter loomed in the doorway, he noticed, unsure where to place himself.

"Come over here, Potter." The Slytherin head of house sighed, motioning the boy to come closer. He took one more look at Potter's distressed expression as the boy did not move and found the young wizard looking at him nervously and anxiously, as if he was deciding whether or not to make a run for it.

"Sit." Snape ordered, placing his left hand between Potter's shoulder blades and softly shoving the boy towards the sofa to their left near the fireplace.

Harry did as he was told, even if he sat there, at the edge of the sofa, stiff and with his gaze never leaving the Potions Master. He was not used to such. Aunt Petunia never would have allowed him to sit at her sofa. Not to mention that she never would have allowed him to sit in her living room at the first place.

While Snape ordered two cups of tea from the school kitchens Harry looked around, unsurely, and at once noticed that Snape liked the darkness. There were no windows in the living room. Candles and the lit fireplace were the only source of light.

The small coffee table that stood in front of him was made of dark brown wood and the colour of the leather sofa, as well as of the two armchairs opposite of him, were matching the colour of the wooden table. A soft blanket of a lighter brown was folded and thrown over the backrest of the sofa.

The wall to his right, where the entrance door was, well – the entire wall was covered with bookshelves of the same dark wood and filled with old books.

At the wall opposite him was a sideboard - yet again of the same dark wood and at the left side of the sideboard he could make out a short hallway leading down to what seemed to be a small kitchen. A large piano stood in that corner at the wall.

At the other side of the sideboard there was a dark brown, wooden door that was closed.

Three doors to his left were leading into other rooms, but he could not see what kind of rooms they were as those doors were closed as well.

With a soft popping sound a small creature appeared, holding a tray with a teapot and two cups in its leathery hands and Harry gave a startled scream away while he flinched back towards the backrest of the sofa.

"There is no need to be afraid of this creature, Potter." Snape explained, ignoring the startled cry and the flinch while holding his hand towards the small creature to stop it from coming closer. "Here at Hogwarts, every teacher has his own personal house elf, and this one here, Zilly, is mine. He will not harm you, but you may call him whenever you need anything. You can snap your fingers, and he will appear. He also can read, so as soon as you have mastered writing, there will be no problem in communication. Until then, I guess you both have to find a way to do so."

He then motioned the house elf to come closer, to do so slowly, and Zilly quickly and quietly did as he was told.

He was under Professor Snape's service for long enough and he long ago had learned Snape's ways and to obey him without questions and without hesitation. So he slowly and silently placed the tray onto the small coffee table. "Does Master Snape need anything else?" The house elf asked in a low but squeaky voice and Snape shook his head.

"Not now, Zilly." Snape answered. "But I need dinner at seven o'clock. A light soup and toast will be fine for both, Mr. Potter and me."

The small creature bowed slowly, eying the boy curiously, and then disappeared with another low 'pop'.

Snape poured tea into both cups, added honey to one which he placed at the table in front of Potter before he seated himself into one of the armchairs opposite the boy who still sat at the very edge of the sofa, ready to jump up and make a run for the door.

"I do have a few things to explain to you before anything else." Snape put his own mug on the table. "But first of all: do you trust me, Potter?"

Of course, he had asked this very question before. Yesterday afternoon for to be precise. Yet – it would not be the last time he would ask this question. This question would force the boy to consider the possibility of even thinking about trusting him. And this question, at least the answer to this question, would show him if the boy gave him a truthful answer despite his fears and where exactly the boy at the moment stood. It was a simple question, yet, it was a question that held so much more.

Potter – after a few seconds of fearful silence – only shook his head, slowly, his body tense and he inwardly seemed to shy away from Snape even further, as if he expected to be beaten or shouted at.

Snape nodded in acceptance, ignoring the fact that Potter had not touched his teacup yet. "Now first off all, I thank you for your true answer. I'm not angry, and I want you to realize that, Potter. I am not angry, and you are not in trouble." He said and asked Harry if the boy understood. Upon the hesitant nod, he continued.

"Good. The left door over there leads to the guest chamber in which you will reside during your stay here." He began to explain, pointing to the wall with the three closed door. "I am sure you will find your trunk with your belongings already placed at the foot of the bed. The right door leads to my bedroom. As I wish to keep my privacy I ask you to only enter my private chamber in a case of emergency. But if there _is_ a case of emergency, so do _not _hesitate to enter. Did I make myself clear?" He asked, knowing well that Potter in all likelihood just _not_ would come to him if he needed help.

Nevertheless, as he had known, Potter slowly nodded, never leaving his eyes off him, watching his ever movement. Well, he would not press the matter now. He would wait until the situation would be upon them.

"The middle door leads to the bathroom." He continued. "As the bathroom is attached to both bedrooms, do not be startled when I enter the bathroom. I will know when you are in there, and I will respect your privacy. But if I have the slightest impression that something _has_ happened, then I _will_ enter. Not without a knock, but I _will_ enter."

Snape noticed Potter gulp nervously and the boy's trembling hands twitched for a moment more violently than they normally did and he had to suppress the urge to just take this small hands into his own to still them.

"Listen to me, Potter." He sighed sadly. "I know that you – until now – have been taken care of yourself, even when you have not been well. But that is not the way things work here in Hogwarts. No child should take care of itself. No child should take care of its own injuries. Not to mention the fact that no child should be beaten and starved as you have been in the first place. But that is another matter and we will not discuss this right now. Right now I wish you to know that you no longer have to take care of yourself. And as long as you are not well, I surely will not teach you any locking spells to keep me from taking care of you. Be assured, that I will not harm you, that I will not beat you, and that I surely will not lay my hands on you in any inappropriate manner. You will be perfectly fine down here with me. Do you understand that?"

Again a few seconds of pause before the boy hesitantly nodded, unsurely, and Snape had to suppress a sigh of frustration.

"Maybe you do understand." He said, watching the boy close. "But you do not believe my words, do you?"

Snape did not expect an answer and so he was not disappointed when Potter only lowered his head and gazed at the floor beneath his feet, no longer able to look into his eyes, his face pale and tiered, exhausted, and hungry.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Sighing heavily he remembered the conversation with Draco just a few minutes before he had gone to inform his Slytherins of his absence during meals and classes the next few weeks, before he would have gone to the infirmary to fetch Potter. His godson had been looking horrid when he had opened his office door, his face pale, much more pale than normal, and his eyes had been startled. The boy nearly had been crying.

Never before had he seen Draco in such a state and quickly he had led the boy into his office and had closed the door behind them, had ordered two cups of tea from the kitchens, but Draco had refused.

**Flashback**

_"What is it, Draco?" Snape asked in alarm when Draco refused the tea and still looked as if he would go ill at every moment. He was leaning against his desk, his arms folded in front of his chest and he watched the boy close. _

_For a second Draco sighed, kept his gaze at the floor, but then he lifted his head and looked into the dark eyes. _

_"You have been right, uncle Severus." He finally said, his voice trembling slightly, but otherwise he gave no outward sign that he was so distressed. _

_Snape just wanted to ask regarding to what exactly he had been right, when the boy continued._

_"About Potter." He said. "You have been right. He really does not seem to be that what I thought. He is in the infirmary, isn't he?"_

_"Yes, he is." Severus answered, sighing. "What exactly did change your mind, Draco?" He could guess, and he thought that his guess would be a good one. Dursley._

_"Dursley." Draco answered, as if he had known his thoughts. "This imbecile is as evil as … what I have heard from You-Know-Who thus far, he cannot be more evil than Dursley. Both Dursleys, I guess, Potter's cousin as well as his uncle, I guess._

_"What happened, Draco?" He asked in a low tone of voice, nearly fearing what exactly Dursley had told his godson, or what he had done. Maybe it had been a mistake to bring Potter's cousin to Hogwarts. But then …_

_"It seems, Potter is so thin because they have starved him, uncle Severus." Draco finally said in a low voice. "I did not really notice it, or better, I did not want to notice. But after … what Dursley said … Potter is thin like a walking stick. And he said that Potter was good for nothing else than a good beating, and that their food was just too good for Potter. And Flint said, when Potter still is in the infirmary, then it has to be serious."_

_Snape nodded, wondering how much he could tell Draco._

_Such as this, such as well was one of the thin lines he so often walked._

_He normally kept the information about the wellbeing of the abused students from the others, for the safety and the privacy of the mistreated children. But he normally informed the others of his house, the classmates and the prefects, about the abuse at least thus far so the other students would understand and could keep an eye at each others, could help. And as there were quite a lot of children in his house that had been abused, such normally was not a problem. They all knew about each others. _

_"Yes, Draco. It is serious." He finally answered._

_"You have known this already when we had our last conversation yesterday afternoon, haven't you, uncle Severus?" Draco asked. "You haven't been at a Death Eater meeting as I first thought. You have been in the infirmary with Potter." Draco knew that his godfather cared for his students, and he knew that his godfather often helped to heal them, and thus he now knew where he had been._

_Snape again nodded, a questioning look in his face now. _

_"You have been so tired, and you looked so mad, so I thought you have been visiting a meeting." Draco explained at the questioning gaze from his godfather. "But you have been away __for so long. You haven't been at diner on Tuesday, nor at breakfast on Wednesday."_

_Snape sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment and considering his next words._

_"I am sure you will understand that I cannot tell you all that transpired, for the privacy of Mr. Potter, but I at least can tell you that it has taken us quite a time to get him stable. He nearly died, Draco." He finally answered. "And to minimize your concerns, for the next few weeks, I can tell you, that you will not see me at meals in the great hall often. Mr. Potter is in no shape to continue classes, and he needs proper care that Madam Pomfrey cannot provide him with. Thus, and because I am his new guardian, I will take him into my care this evening. I will have my meals in my chambers together with Mr. Potter to ensure that he eats enough and gains weight. I just was on my way to the Slytherin common room to inform Mr. Flint that the headmaster will take over for the next few weeks for classes above first year and to have a look at you Slytherins."_

_Draco nodded thoughtfully. _

_He knew that his godfather sometimes had one or another of the mistreated students from his house in his guest chamber. But only __if it really was serious and included emotional problems. It really wasn't that often. But Potter? _

_"He will be all right, won't he?" He asked, not really knowing what made him ask this question. It was Potter after all._

_"Yes, he will be all right, Draco." Snape answered after a moment and after a small sigh. There was no need to concern the other students. Not before they did not know the extent of the outcome. They still did not know of the secondary damage._

_"Are you all right, Draco?" He finally asked. "Do you need anything?"_

_The boy in front of him shook his head and Snape nodded. "Then I guess it is time to finally visit the Slytherin common room. I have to inform Mr. Flint and the other students of my absence for the next few weeks."_

_They both made their way through the dungeons halls until they reached the Slytherin common room and Draco muttered the password. They both entered and Snape cast a quick glance around the room. Easily noticing the tension that held the students, easily noticing that most of the six__th and seventh years were present and most of the first and second years._

_Good, he thought, just the students he needed._

_Draco went to one of the sofas and waited, already knowing what his uncle would announce, while the rest of the present students watched their head of house. As most of them had overheard the conversation between Draco, Marcus and Dursley, they at least guessed what would come._

_"As most of you surely have already heard," he __began, his voice as low as it was during classes, "Mr. Potter currently is in the infirmary. And as he has been severely mistreated, as have been many others of you, and he thus needs proper help and care, I will take him in for the next few weeks. This is absolutely nothing new to you. Some of you have already been a guest in my quarters at the beginning of a school year because of the very same reason, and thus I am sure you all know what that means and how to act._

_As always, the headmaster is covering potions classes from the second years upwards. The seventh year students will be held responsible for the younger students and for running a smooth house. The sixth year students will be held responsible for study groups and for the homework of the younger students."_

_His gaze roamed the common room, easily finding the faces from his older students which he meant to address and then wandering to the faces of the younger students before he continued._

_"During this time, I expect the younger students of you to follow the explicit orders from the older ones. Should I ever hear of disobedience from you, be assured that a punishment will take place and I am sure none of you will face my wrath. Further, as soon as I deem Mr. Potter ready to come back to his dormitory and thus, to this common room, I expect all of you to show tact towards a student that will need privacy until he comes to you. I expect all of you, you, Mr. Dursley included, to handle the situation and to handle Mr. Potter with the required discretion and respect that every student in this situation deserves."_

_Once again the dark eyes roamed the common room, piercing the students there, before the silky voice continued after lingering his gaze at some of the students who had already been in the same position as Potter now was._

_"Of course, as always, you know that my door is open to every one of you should you need help or advice. Yet – as I have a difficult student under my care, and thus you never know what kind of circumstances you stumble into that could worsen the situation I already have at hand in this moment, I ask you to be patient after knocking at my quarters and wait until I open the door."_

_He waited a few minutes until he got a nod from every present student, Dursley included whom he paid more attention than he did to the others, before he nodded back in acknowledgement and turned on his heels, leaving the common room of his Slytherins._

**End flashback**

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A soft 'pop' interrupted his thoughts and announced the appearance of Zilly, and Snape noticed that, yet again, Potter jumped startled at the soft noise, but did not flinch back from the small creature this time. Well, this at least was good. Maybe the boy would trust the house elf much sooner than him and he was relieved. He needed Zilly to watch over Potter while he took his lessons with the first-years and the meetings with his younger Slytherins on Saturday morning.

"Your dinner is served, Master Snape." The small creature announced and Snape nodded his thanks. "Does Master Snape need anything else?"

"No, thank you, Zilly." Snape answered while getting to his feet. "Not now, but I will need you later."

"Come, Potter." He then said, turning towards the boy and waiting until Potter was standing, watching him close, once again wondering how he was able to stand steadily on this thin sticks that were his feet.

Potter seemed to have been in some kind of thoughts as well, because he hitched his breath and flinched back a step when Snape again curled his long fingers around his upper arm to lead him into the kitchen and the boy cast a quick, fearful gaze towards him before he had himself back under control. Snape ignored it, even if he had to grit his teeth once again and slowly led the boy towards the kitchen he had added to his chambers.

The small kitchen held a long sideboard with floor units, including a small stove and a sink. A large cupboard stood at one side and placed at the wall to the left stood a table, large enough to hold space for four people. Two bowls of soup, and two plates and spoons were laid on the table and a large plate with toast was placed in the middle of the furniture as was a candle. Otherwise the small room was lit only by a few more candles that were attached to the walls.

"This is the kitchen where we will have breakfast, lunch and dinner. The meals between, I do see no reason to not have them in the living room by the fire." He said, leading the boy towards the table. "And as there is no need to stand beside the chair, I ask you to always have a seat." He added while he gently forced the boy to sit in one of the chairs at the long side of the table so he would have a wall in his back.

He knew pretty well that people who had been mistreated or tortured feared having their back open and exposed to other humans that may be in the room. To the room at all. That those people always chose seats where they would have the safety of a wall in their backs, where they could keep an eye at the entrance.

Taking his own seat Snape moved carefully, always watching what he did and making sure his young charge would not fear what he was doing. "Take a toast, Potter and begin to eat." He commanded softly.

Harry watched the Potions Master close while he sat in his chair, his eyes never leaving the dark man, watching his ever movements and trying to read his face, his posture and his voice.

Yet – he did not really know what to expect. And he did not really know what to do.

Professor Snape told him to take from the food. But uncle Vernon had forbidden him to eat. At least he had not given his permission. And that meant, it was forbidden, until he said otherwise.

Though the man seemed to be relaxed and at ease he radiated an aura of strength and command and Harry was sure he could be extremely dangerous if he so chose and he eyed the Potions Professor warily.

"Food is nothing that will be denied of you here. Thus there is no need to fear eating. Take a toast!" Snape commanded and finally, even if ever so slowly and hesitantly, Potter reached out for the food. He slowly put a toast on the plate in front of him, eyes shooting cautiously to Snape every now and then and the Potions Master could visibly see him weighing his choices, deciding if he could trust Snape's word.

Yet – the boy sat in front of his plate, not daring to touch the food, while his eyes darted to and fro between the plate and the Potions Master, and Snape sighed.

"You need to eat something, even if it's just a little something. Then you can lie down and rest." He promised. Without success. Potter still watched him warily, his panic rising clearly visible in his face, in his eyes, in his entire features.

"May I cast cogitatio legere onto you?" He asked, his eyebrow lifted. "Just to be able to know what exactly is bothering you?"

But this time the boy shook his head in pure terror and Snape could only guess that he feared to reveal more of the _'secrets'_ of his home life and his uncle, just as he had done last time while he had been under this spell.

"Then I ask you to eat." Snape said, his voice kind and low but firm and commanding. "Otherwise I really will consider to cast this spell as I have to know what exactly is disturbing you."

Well, this did not work. Not at all. In the contrary.

Within a few seconds the boy was at his feet, trembling like mad and retreating quickly, away from Snape, making a run for the door.

Yet, Snape was faster, and without difficulty he rose to his feet, rounded the table and reaching out, he took the boy's upper arm into a careful but firm grip.

He knew that this only would cause a panic attack. But he could not allow the boy to leave the chambers and he cursed himself for not locking them. It would be too dangerous to let the boy running through the castle in the condition he was in. No matter the panic attack he would have to deal with right now. It was better than having a seriously injured Potter laying somewhere within the castle because he fell from the moving staircases or whatever could happen to a child in Potter's condition.

Well, Harry reacted immediately. He did not try to get away from the man holding him, instinctively knowing that he would not have the slightest chance to get free.

Instead of this, he lowered himself onto the floor, something Snape had not expected, and that for caught him by surprise and he lost his grip on Potter's arm, silently cursing under his breath. Within an instant he was by the boy's side, lowered himself onto one knee beside Potter who lay curled into a small ball, and he sighed once again, noticing that he had not sighed so often in a very long time. Since many years, for to be correct. Taking a deep breath himself he closed his eyes for a moment to calm his own nerves and to ensure he had control over himself.

"Calm down, Potter." He commanded in a low but firm voice, reaching out to the boy under his care. "Nothing will happen to you here and you are safe. No harm is done and you are not in trouble, thus, no punishment will take place. I only ask you to calm down."

Well, this still did not work, Snape noticed. The small body under his hands just tensed even more and he shook his head. He was not even sure the child could understand what he was saying at this point as Potter's breathing became more rapid and erratic. However he continued to just speak to the distraught mass in front of him, carefully pulling the boy into a sitting position so he would be able to force him to look into his eyes.

"Easy, Potter, calm down. Now!" He commanded, both hands holding Potter's upper arms and thus forcing him upright. "Take a grip at yourself and calm down. Think, Potter! What have I told you? Are you really in danger here?"

Slowly he released Potter's right arm and placed his hand under the boy's chin, lifting his head and Potter had no other choice as to look into the depth of Snape's dark eyes, which were looking back at the boy with sincerity.

"Come to reason, Potter." The Potions Master continued in his soft voice. "And think. I told you, you are safe here. I told you, I would neither beat you, nor lay hands on you in any inappropriate manner. You are at Hogwarts, and you are quite safe here. No one besides you and me is here. Your uncle is not here, nor is your aunt. Nothing will happen to you here. You are perfectly safe while being with me."

Potter had fallen apart and Snape could see as the child was trying to gather the shattered pieces back together. "Think of my words, child, and try to understand what they mean!"

When this still did not work and the boy still sat there, trembling like a leaf in a storm, trying to move farther away from him, he slowly pulled the small body against his chest, ignoring the flinch, ignoring the startled cry of fear, and ignoring the reluctance with which the boy acted, and placed one hand onto Potter's neck and the other onto his back, still murmuring meaningless words to the boy, running a calming hand down the child's spine, further relaxing both of them.

"I guess it is too late and we both are just too tired to deal with that right now." Severus whispered. "So I will allow you to go away with it right now and to take a nutrition potion instead. But only this time, child. From tomorrow on, I expect you to eat your meals."

Well, _he_ was not really tired.

Well, yes, if he was honest with himself, he was. But he was not as tired as Potter was. Not bodily at least, but he was mentally tired. Nevertheless he surely would not go to bed anytime soon. He was used to little sleep and he was used to stress. But the boy was not and he clearly could sense the bodily and emotionally tiredness the boy radiated. And considering that the boy worried over being here, in the private chambers of his professor, having to sleep here, not knowing if he could trust him, not knowing which horrors may occur during the night here in the dungeons with the adult man in the same quarters, no, it would do no good to force Potter right now.

The next fight would come soon enough, at the latest when it would come to the bath.

Ever so slowly he removed his right hand from the sobbing boy's neck, slipped it under the thin knees, and lifting him into his arms he – again – cursed silently at how light the boy was while he strode over into the living area and to the sofa Potter had vacated earlier.

"I'm setting you down now, Potter." He said while settling the boy onto the sofa again before kneeling in front of him and gently taking hold of the boy's thin wrists, his thumb rubbing soothingly over the skin. "Are you all right now?" He asked.

Harry did not know what to say to his Potions Professor, but he decided it best to just say yes, just to nodd. That way he could not do the wrong thing and make Snape even more mad at him. So he just nodded.

Raising his left eyebrow the Potions Master watched the boy for a moment before he himself nodded, knowing that he was not all right but just gave the answer he thought he would expect from him. Yet, he let the point slip, this time at least, making a mental note to everything he had witnessed during the evening so he would be able to address this things during the next days, and reaching into his robes he pulled out a small glass vial.

"Drink this!" He ordered, pulling out the stopper and reaching the vial towards the boy. "And there is no other way. You _will_ drink this!"

This time the boy did as he was told and took the vial, even if it was with a trembling hand, downing its contents without grimacing at the chalky taste and handing the empty vial back, eying the Potions Master warily.

Only then, Snape let out a deep breath._ They had made it,_ he thought, nearly dizzy with relief, they had made it through the first panic attack, knowing that much more such panic attacks would take place during the next days and weeks, maybe months.

"Wait here! I will be back soon." Snape then ordered softly before he went into the large bathroom.

A shower definitely was out of place, that much was clear. Not only would a shower be much too strenuous just now, but a bath definitely would be more comforting for Potter than a shower, and he wanted the boy to relax a bit before going to bed and a warm bath would help with that.

So – after finally locking the door to his quarters with a casual wave of his wand – he went to the bathroom and opened the faucet to run the bath.

Pouring some melissa mixture into his palm he lowered his hand into the water, allowing the thick liquid to dissolve slowly in the warm water before he withdraw his hand and dried it with a towel.

Of course he could have just poured the potion into the water. Yet – he was a Potions Master. And thus he of course knew that the contact with the skin was interacting with the water and the calming and healing abilities of the melissa he had brewed.

And besides of this, it allowed him time to think for a few moments.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_The first night in the care of Severus Snape for Harry_

_Snape has to learn as well as Harry and he has to improvise _

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you


	11. down in the dungeons: the first night

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ...

And yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Of course he could have just poured the potion into the water. Yet – he was a Potions Master. And thus he of course knew that the contact with the skin was interacting with the water and the calming and healing abilities of the melissa he had brewed. _

_And besides of this, it allowed him to think for a few moments._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter eleven**

**Down in the dungeons – the first night**

Severus Snape was deliberating about whether he really should suggest a bath or not. He knew for sure how the boy would react if he even mentioned it, let alone if he tried to actually get him into the bath and with a small sigh of frustration he dried his hands at a towel.

Maybe he should just allow Potter to go to bed without the bath. The boy was frightened enough at the moment as it was without the added stress of the next fight he knew that would come as soon as he would suggest it.

On the other hand, he still had to massage the healing oil into the injuries. And this was something he could not just let slip. And a bath beforehand the massage would help the oil to work better. Besides of this, the melissa as well as the warm water – hopefully – would help the boy to relax any further.

He also had noticed the cramps that had started during the past hour. Not the jerks of his hands and of his arms that had increased as well, but real cramps in the boy's limbs, and thus he really doubted that Potter would be able to sleep any time soon. He would have to – at least try – and loosen the tense muscles.

With a soft snort of irritation he wondered how one could refer the thin sticks to something like … muscles.

Well, however, he wanted to have a closer check on the thin limbs as well so he could get a clue just how far he could push the boy during the exercises, just how soon he could start in the first place and if there was anything to start with at all. He had no idea yet.

Of course, he had seen Potter in the infirmary just two days before. And he had been shocked, if he had to be honest with himself. But he'd had to heal the injuries and thus he'd had not paid as much attention to his limbs as he needed just now.

And the simple fact that Potter had eaten nothing thus far, and only had had the nutrition potions, did not help matters as well. There would be no improvement. The potions only held the condition he was in now, only held the condition he was in since who knew how long, but they did nothing to gain any mass nor to improve the situation at all. The potions only kept him alive. And even that only for this long.

He knew, he had to act, and he knew he had to act soon.

Yes, maybe a bath really was the best idea right now, even if he knew the next fight that would come.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

A few minutes later Snape got back into the living area, watching Potter close, his face as motionless as ever.

Harry looked up over hearing Professor Snape's return. The man was leaning against the doorway and there was a slight frown on his face. Harry could see that he was mentally debating on something.

"I am sure there is no point in explaining anything this evening, Potter, as I am sure you are exhausted beyond your limits." Snape finally said in his low tone of voice, slowly leaving the doorway he stood in and walking towards the sofa. "Thus, I insist you take the bath I have prepared and then I will show you to your room where you can rest throughout the night. Tomorrow will be soon enough to discuss any future points."

He slowly reached for Potter's upper arm once more, ignoring the boy flinching away, ignoring the low gasp of fear, and he slowly and carefully gripped the bony arm and pulled the boy to his feet, gently leading him towards the bathroom.

Due to his terror, knowing that Snape led him towards the bathroom where he would have to undress, again it was the fact that the Potions Master had a secure, yet gentle grip at him, leading him, what gave him the only feeling of safety, the only anchor he had that kept him from drifting and that for drowning within his fear, like a lifeline he could grasp at.

Yet – he was not able to stop the thoughts which were stumbling through his mind, which were causing him to tremble with fear and anticipation and much too soon for his liking they reached the bathroom.

"Disrobe, Potter." Snape said in a low and kind voice when they had entered the bathroom, knowing well that the next fight was just about to occur.

And – as he had known – Potter stood there, his eyes darting back and forth between the Potions Master, the bathtub and the door, the hunted look tired but panicked and Snape sighed. He, at least, had known.

"There is nothing I have not already seen, Potter, and there is nothing you have to fear." He finally said in a tone as calming as he was able to manage. "And no, I am not going to leave. You are ready to drop and you would not even make it into the tub."

The older wizard's gaze was trained on the boy's face and Harry began to fumble with the hem of his robe, reluctant to obey. His hands were trembling and the dark eyes watched the boy with such an intensity it made Harry even more nervous.

Watching Potter still standing there in the middle of the bathroom making no move to disrobe Snape slowly took a step towards the boy and lowered himself onto one knee in front of him, locking his black eyes into to green ones, once again noticing that the boy had Lily's eyes and his else wise hard face softened a note.

"I know you do not trust me, child." He whispered while he slowly reached out his hand and with much more kindness than he originally had intended pulled the robe from the boy's shoulder. "How could you. But I promise that you will not be hurt while being in my care. I will not hurt you. I will not beat you. And I will not lay my hand on you in an inappropriate manner."

Not knowing how often he would have to repeat this words he slowly but with confident movements opened the buttons of the trembling boy's shirt in front of him without releasing his gaze, without allowing him to cast his eyes away. Of course, he could have used a spell to disrobe Potter that would have been much more quickly and effectively, but by doing so with his hands, in a none magical way, he allowed the boy to get accustomed to the fact and to calm his nerves as much as possible by breathing in the heavy scent of the melissa the bath gave away and filled the room.

Not to mention that he himself thus was able to calm his own nerves by acting in this none magical way.

Yes, he often had had children of his house down here in his quarters. Every year he had one of them down here. And yes, Potter surely was not the first one of his students who needed his help due to a mistreatment that had taken place for far too long. And yes, he was used to such, he was used to handle those children.

Yet – none of the previous children he'd had here in his special care had had his fear running that deep as had Potter. None of the children he'd had here had been this much in terror. None of them had been this hard to handle.

They all acted out of instinct to keep themselves safe, alive. Yes.

But none of them had ever refused basic needs like food, water, safety or medical care. All of them had – somehow – known that they had been safe in Hogwarts, that their parents, or what else hunted them, were not present.

But Potter?

This boy acted as if he feared his uncle would turn up at every moment to punish him if he just dared to eat, or to move, or to even breath. And this boy was the first one he actually had to undress to even get him into a bathtub.

He had to force himself to keep his mask in place when he finally removed the shirt from the boy's shoulders and he nearly winced himself when he noticed that some of the cuts had reopened at some point over the day and the shirt now was clued together with the dried blood to the wounds.

Using the washcloth he wet the mixture of dried blood and shirt to get it off without pulling it from the dried wounds.

Of course he had seen the boy before, in the hospital wing, just two days before. And of course he knew exactly what the boy looked like. How thin he was, a skeleton that was covered in cuts and welts, in burns and bruises, and nothing more. But seeing it again with his eyes instead of only knowing it within his mind was another thing. And again he got angry at the Dursleys, nearly wishing he could go to them again, to punish them again for what they had done to a child. To a wizarding child. To any child.

Potter, he noticed, stood there, root to the spot, frozen in terror, hardly able to breath and the Potions Master easily noticed those tired eyes were filled with fear and pain and he silently sighed while he removed the boy's trousers.

"I only wish you to take this bath before bed." He explained, his voice still gentle and calming. "The warm water will help you to relax your muscles, and the melissa will help with that too, as well as with calming your nerves, your mind. The water is not cold nor is it hot. You may lower your hand into the water before going into the tub if you wish to feel the temperature."

Snape watched Potter shaking his head at that, terror still written all over his face, and after thinking for a moment he decided that the boy was already uncomfortable enough and allowed him to keep on his pants, rolled up his sleeves and just gathered the still petrified boy into his arms and lowered him into the bathtub.

For a moment Potter made a move to protest before he froze in his arms.

Until Snape finally placed him into the water.

The moment the small body was touching the water he stiffened and then began to thrash around, shivering and wincing, trying to somehow fight the professor's careful but firm grip and to get out of the tub, splashing water with his wild movements onto the older wizard and the floor around the tub.

"Easy, Potter." Snape said in his low and gentle tone. He did not know what exactly Potter feared.

Maybe the temperature and he guessed that the boy, in his panic, did not notice that the temperature was neither cold nor hot. Maybe he feared being drowned and he guessed that Potter did not notice that his grip held the thrashing boy above the surface of the water when he nearly drowned himself in his panic.

"Easy, child." He whispered in a gentle voice, leaning forwards, securing the boy further. "You are safe. Try to calm yourself and feel the water. It is neither cold nor is it hot. You will not freeze in the water, nor will it burn you. And I will not drown you either. Just calm down and you will be perfectly fine."

Slowly the boy really began to calm down a bit, enough that Snape was able to release the firm grip he'd had at the tense shoulders with one hand and to take one of the thin wrists into a similar firm grip with his other, now free one. Carefully but securely he forced the boy's hand under the water, holding it there and forcing the boy to become aware of the temperature.

"Feel the water, child." He whispered. "Feel it, feel the temperature. Calm yourself and feel the water. Be aware of the warmth. You will neither freeze nor being burnt. And you will not drown in the water either. I have you. You are safe. Nothing will happen. Just relax, child. Allow your body to relax in the water. You are fine."

And slowly the boy did as he was told, tried to calm himself when he became aware that the water really was neither cold nor hot and he began to relax under the assuring grip of the Potions Master.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Never before had he felt as good as just now. Never before had he been allowed to take a bath. Aside from this one time when uncle Vernon had decided that he needed a bath and had filled the tub with the hot water, throwing him into the tub and holding him in place, drowning him whenever he tried to struggle.

But this time the water was not hot. It did not hurt. And Professor Snape did not drown him either. In the contrary.

During his struggle he nearly had lost his balance once and for a moment he had thought he might slip under the water, but the firm grip on his upper arms had held him above the surface.

And little by little he was able to relax at least enough so he could sit in the tub, his upper body slightly bent forwards, his head hanging low, and his hands laying at his knees weakly, his eyes closed, while he tried to catch his breath, to somehow calm himself, while he still trembled with fear.

Everything ached. The cuts were still burning painfully, his head felt as if it would split into two, and his stomach ached painfully. He knew he should eat something soon. But he as well knew that uncle Vernon had not given his permission to do so. Yet - he felt dizzy. And his arms and legs hurt horribly too, the muscles, he guessed. And his back felt as if he would snap into two. With all this put together, all he could do was to sit in the bath, not even bothering when he felt something wet touching his shoulders.

He was just so tired all he wanted was to close his eyes and sleep.

Severus Snape, head of Slytherin house, Potions Master, and former Death Eater, now spy to Dumbledore and the order, but still the dark and cold, snarky man he was, let out a low sigh of relief when he finally felt the thin body under his hands relaxing in the water and for a few seconds he just knelt beside the tub, watching the boy that was sitting in the water, still trembling with fear, his head hanging low and his eyes closed with tiredness.

He easily took in how the breathing calmed minutely, how the tense muscles relaxed more and more and how the boy itself seemed to nearly enjoy the bath, and he did not bother to suppress a small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

During the day some of the cuts had reopened and Snape carefully began to wash the dried blood away, run the washcloth over the bent shoulders and the small back.

How could he ever reach through to this boy? To Potter?

Barely visible shaking his head he tried to find anything that compared this boy to the Potter he knew from his days in school long ago, but he could find none aside from the unruly black hair, the glasses the boy wore and his name, and he again closed his eyes to relax himself further.

James Potter had been a bully. This boy was not.

James Potter had been spoiled. This boy was not, in the contrary.

And James Potter had been breaking rules at every turn he had taken, whereas he doubted that this boy he had in front of him even dared to break any rules at all.

Yet – he could find so much in this boy that reminded him at Lily.

First of, those green eyes.

Well, not exactly. Lily's green eyes had been bright, sparkling with joy and with happiness. Harry's green eyes were dark, and he only could find fear and pain written in them. Fear and pain written that deep within his eyes, he did not know how to reach through to take it away and to replace it with the same joy and happiness that he had once seen in Lily's eyes.

Yes, if he was true to himself, he wanted to take this fear and pain away, he wanted nothing more than to do this. He wanted nothing more than to take Harry into his arms and to never release him until the boy knew he was safe, until the boy could feel rest and peace. He wanted to hear this boy laugh, and he wanted him to speak again, not out of terror or in his sleep, but because he felt safe to do so. He wanted to see Harry …

Wait – since when was Potter Harry?

Since when … this was James Potter's son, after all!

But then – this was Lily Evan's son as well, he reminded himself, and he knew that he was right. Yes, he really wanted Potter, Harry Potter, to be an as happy boy as possible. Whatever it would take him to reach this goal.

Yet – at the same time he knew that he could not do as he just now wanted to. He would have to act slowly, did he not want to startle the boy more than to comfort him.

Where other children which he'd had under his care in such a situation would take every friendly touch as a small miracle and search for more, there would this boy only shy away from it, would fear it, the touch itself as well as the fear that he would have to pay for such kindness.

And once again this evening he gritted his teeth with frustration while cursing the Dursleys, continuing to softly run the washcloth over the thin shoulders and the small back.

While Snape cleaned the cuts and washed the dried blood away he noticed the boy's trembling increased again, even if he tried to be as carefully as possible, but when he noticed the small body was shaken by silent sobs he froze in his movements.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked in a silent tone of voice.

But Potter only shook his head in refusal, struggling to get himself back under control.

"I am sorry, child." Snape whispered while he tried to see Potter's face. "But I have to finish this. I do not wish to cause you more pain than you are already in, but I have to finish this, alright?"

He had asked. This time he had not given a command or a statement, he had asked, and he would accept a no. But he was relieved when he got a small nod from Potter and gritting his teeth, Snape continued to wash the boy.

With another small smile Snape noticed Potter relaxed further in the warmth of the bath and was almost asleep when he gently gripped the small shoulder. "I will lift you out of the water now." He said softly. "Do not be startled. You are safe."

Slipping one arm under Harry's knees and the other behind his back, he lifted the small boy into his arms and out of the water, and ignoring the water dripping from the small body in his arms and onto his robes he cradled the boy against his chest.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Not daring to cast more spells than necessary onto the boy Snape wrapped Potter into an overly large and soft towel so he would not freeze down here in the dungeons, before he just put a drying spell onto himself and the pants the boy wore and then led the boy into the guest chamber where he told him to go to bed, that he would be back in a moment.

Well, the boy apparently had had a mind of himself, for he was laying curled up into a small ball on the floor beside the bed, in front of the small nightstand, between the bed and the wall and Snape sighed heavily at the sight as soon as he re-entered the room, knowing that it would not be easy to get Potter to finally _use_ the bed, remembering Flint's report after the first night, that Potter seemingly had slept at the floor beside the bed.

"This bed actually is existent to be used, Potter." He said, his dark eyes holding a sad expression as he gazed at the shivering bundle that was laying on the floor. "I will not allow you to simply sleep on the floor. Never! Thus I wish you to climb into bed – now!" He added when though Potter did sit up, but made no movement to actually climb onto the bed.

Yet – he just sat there, his knees drawn to his chest and his arms hugging his knees, pulling them – and the towel he still was wrapped in – as close as he could, while his eyes darted nervously from the Potions Master to the bed and back to the older wizard and Snape narrowed his eyes.

"Now, Potter!" He ordered silently. "I mean it!"

And slowly, hesitantly, the boy obeyed. Good, that had been easier than he had thought.

He did not wish to frighten Potter even more. But he knew how tired he surely was, even if it was long before curfew. He knew he could not compete the boy with the other first-years which just now surely were sitting in the Slytherin common room, laughing and joking.

Shaking his head he wondered how he could manage to teach the boy to simply obey orders out of respect or because of his own good and not out of fear, while he – with a simple wave of his wand removed the nightstand out of the way so he could place the bed against the wall and the nightstand simply at the other bedside. With the bed at the wall Potter at least would have a wall in his back so he could feel a bit more safe.

This done he pulled a vial out of his robes, watching the child's fearful anticipation.

"Lay on your back, Potter." Snape commanded, keeping his voice soft and more gentle than before, taking a deep breath. "I will reach out to touch you, don't be afraid. I will not hurt you."

Slowly he sat onto the edge of the mattress, in front of Potter, ignoring the boy's attempts to struggle away and after slowly pulling the towel away and out of the boy's grip, he laid his hand onto the small shoulder, causing the child to freeze under his touch. "This is nothing else than a healing potion, Potter." He explained, his dark eyes locked into the green ones. "And I will do nothing else than to cover your injuries with this potion. I have done so last night and the night before. It will help you to relax, and it will help you with the pain. The injuries will heal faster this way as well, even if it is not one of the magical healing potions we normally would use, due to the fact that you are ways too underweight to administer much magical potions to you, but one made with only the healing effects of some plants. I brewed it by myself this afternoon so I could be sure it would work and mixed it with some oil so it will be easier to massage it into your skin."

With careful movements he poured some of the oily healing potion from the batch he had made this afternoon onto his palm and after waiting until the liquid had body temperature, he began to massage the potion into the skin of Potter's chest. He noticed the boy's hands clinging to the sheets underneath him as if to a life line and Snape's hand tightened on the small shoulder when the boy tensed.

This combined with the touch over the cuts and the still aching ribs was enough to make the boy in front of him silently whimper in pain, trying to move away from the touch, but Snape merely tightened his grip, not releasing Potter and allowing the child to flee.

He did not want to do this, damn!

Of course, this was Potter, The-Damn-Brat-That-Was-The-Son-Of-His-Childhood-Enemy, and he was supposed to hate this boy.

Yet, he simply _could_ not hate him. Not anymore. In the contrary.

This boy had proven to him that he had been wrong. Badly wrong. And no child, absolutely no child deserved such.

He did not pity him. That simply was not his way of feeling in general.

Crabbe and Goyle pitied him. For their stupidity and for their inability to use their own brains. And he pitied Trelawney, for her lack of common sense and her incapability of gaining any self-assuredness. He even pitied Filch. Not for the fact that he was a squib. No. But for his inability to take care of himself concerning personal hygiene and for his pleasure he felt of bodily violence and cruelty.

But not Potter.

Potter had been abused in a most cruel way by his relatives, over years. He had been forced to endure abuse that was easily compared to the torture the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters used on their innocent victims.

Yet – he still lived. And he still was able to function.

He still was not sure to what extend Potter was able to function. But he _did_ function. And that was more than one could say from some adults that had been tortured by the Dark Lord and his followers.

No, he did not pity Potter, but he did not hate him either, not anymore.

Gazing into those green eyes that watched him fearfully he noticed so much pain in them that Severus Snape was frightened for a moment.

"The pain will be gone soon, I promise." He whispered, and for the first time his voice was not only gentle, but warm, really warm. "Just try to relax your body. I promise, you neither will be punished for this, nor will you have to pay in any way for medical care."

Potter seemed to try, seemed to try and will his body to relax while Snape slowly and gently massaged the healing oil into the skin over the small chest of the boy, but the Potions Master felt the muscles under his hands remained tense, refused to obey and relax. Watching the boy closely he could nearly see how he tried even harder to relax, but as he still did not manage it, he clearly began to panic and Snape nearly could _hear_ the boy thinking of what he would do to him if he did not obey and relax. What only made him even more tense until he was laying there in front of him as stiff as a board, his eyes anxiously darting from the professor's face to the wall behind the older wizard and back to Professor Snape's face while every instinct seemed to scream at the boy to tense his muscles up in order to make a beating less painful.

Sighing heavily Snape shook his head.

"Hush Potter." He whispered. "Calm down. You are not in trouble. Even if you do not manage to relax, you are not in trouble and thus no punishment will take place. You are quite safe and I will do you no harm. I only order you to relax because it would make you feel better. You may not believe me, but I am here to help you, Potter. I do not know if you realize it, but you are but a doorstep away from death. You are in no means able to handle yourself at the moment. You need help, and I am willing to give this help to you. You only have to reach out and accept it."

Carefully taking one of the thin arms in his hands he began to work his way downwards over the arm, carefully massaging the thin limb and feeling for muscles and bones, noticing that there really was not much he could begin with while never stopping to speak to the boy, remembering what the Dark Lord once had said to him.

**Flashback**

_Severus Snape was standing in front of the Dark Lord, meeting his cold and deathly glare with his calm dark eyes, calmly waiting until the madman in front of him would finish his angry rant._

_It had been – yet again – Crabbe and Goyle who had displeased the Dark Lord and not only those two had had to endure the crutiatus curse a few times this evening, but nearly every other one of the present Death Eaters as well. Lucius and he himself had been the only ones thus far who had been spared this curse. Until now at least._

_But Snape knew better than to hope they really would be spared much longer. He knew, when the Dark Lord was in this kind of mood, when he was displeased with his followers, with any of his followers, he spared no one. They all had to pay. And he knew as well that it could take hours for the Dark Lord to calm down when he was in his rage, in this blind fury. Then he only wanted to hurt them, and to hurt them as much as possible. This man was not capable of feeling sympathy or mercy, not even reason when being angry. He only could feel resentment and hate, and the overwhelming sense of using cruelty and sensless punishments. His followers did not obey his commands because he gained their trust and respect, but because he evoked fear in them, nothing else than raw fear._

_No, Snape knew exactly that this night would be a long and painful one._

_And just now Lucius was standing in his place within the circle, beside him, slightly trembling and wincing as the Dark Lord turned sharply during his rant to cast one more __cruciatus at Nott who had dared to move._

_"And you, Lucius? What do you have to report?" The Dark Lord now addressed the blond Death Eater beside him, his voice hard and cold, filled with anger and disappointment. "Is Malfoy Manor prepared for a visit? Is it safe for my arrival?"_

_"Of course, My lord." Was Lucius' nervous answer, yet, maybe he was not quick enough, or maybe his voice trembled too much, or maybe the Dark Lord was just still too angry, Snape did not really know. Well, he did not really care either. However, the Dark Lord cast the __cruciatus curse at the blond man beside him as soon as he had the words out, before he turned towards him, Snape._

_Yet – Snape met the Dark Lord's cold and deathly glare with his calm and dark eyes, and he patiently waited for the question he knew would come._

_"Do you have the potion I requested from you, Severus?" The Dark Lord asked, his voice still filled with fury._

_"Regrettably - no, My Lord." Snape answered calmly, the gaze of his dark eyes as steady as his voice. "As, I have informed you earlier this week, alone the simmering takes seven days if you wish to achieve full potential of this potion for your result. Added to the two days of resting before I can skim the potion, the task will be finished this weekend, My Lord."_

_Slowly the Dark Lord narrowed his eyes at Snape, watching him close, but then he gripped his wand tighter, aiming it at the Potions Master, while his eyes glared daggers at him._

_"Why is it, Severus, that you are able to dare and give me a 'no' as an answer?" He asked in his cold and angry voice._

_Yet – Snape still stood his ground, not even flinching, not moving back, not moving at all and he even seemed to be at ease, relaxed, while his gaze still was steady._

_"Because there is no other answer, My Lord." He said in his calm and low voice. "You will have to search for another Potions Master if you wish to have your potions before they are properly finished, because I will not ruin the potential a potion can achieve by running out of patience, My Lord."_

_It was a simple answer to a simple question. With other words, the Dark Lord would have to kill him – what he, no doubt, would be able to do without so much as batting an eye if he so chose – if he wished to have his potions before their time. Yet – the Dark Lord knew well that Severus Snape was one of the best. That he surely was the best he could get. And he slowly lowered his wand._

_Snape did not even breath a sigh of relieve when the Dark Lord lowered his wand, just watched him with his steady dark eyes, his face motionless and only when the other man beg__an to silently laugh, he lifted a questioning eyebrow._

_"My, my, Severus." The Dark Lord finally answered the silent question. "You really have something, my friend. Even when I am about to hex you into next oblivion and torture you, you do not flinch with fear as every other one of those cowards here do. And where every other one of my - faithful - Death Eaters angers me even more, you are able to calm my fury. Do you know that you have the softest and the most calming eyes and voice I ever saw or heard? I am sure no woman would be able to withstand you, if you played out your dark eyes and your silky voice. Together with your sarcasm, you are quite charming."_

**End flashback**

Gritting his teeth he barely managed to keep his face calm and motionless, not wanting to startle the boy by showing an angry expression caused by the memory.

As if he ever would use his voice to talk a woman into a relationship with him. He did not need such. He did not need a relationship at all. No, he was no one to care for a family. He was no one who would be able to comfort a woman in his life. Let alone having children! The students were another matter altogether. They were not his own. He was responsible for them throughout the school year, yes, but he was not their father.

Of course, he had loved a woman – once.

But that had been a long time ago. That had been more than ten years ago. And after Lily had married Potter …

No, he had no intentions to ever get into a relationship again.

Not to mention the fact, that he now was not interested in woman at all.

He sometimes went into muggle London to get what his body wanted, but surely not with women.

And – those words coming from the Dark Lord, they had angered him, they still angered him. Would Lily have used them, or Albus, or even Lupin or Lucius … well, he would have been able to grin, if only inwardly, but from the man he so much hated and despised. No, they still angered him and he even refused to believe them.

Yes, he of course knew that he was able to calm those who needed him, the students which he had under his care, his young Slytherins. With his eyes that could be an anchor to them, as well as with his voice that could be a lifeline to them. And he knew just how much his students needed such.

No one who pitied them, but a calming, yet demanding and severe, strict presence, someone who understood their needs and gave them an anchor, a strict structure without exceptions, but pushed them into reaching their own limits to learn what they were capable of.

Yet, he knew that he – on the other hand – could awake fear in other students, like the Gryffindors. Here too, with his eyes, which could be blazing like a hammer meeting the anvil as well as with his voice that could be cold and harsh like ice freezing over an entire lake with his sarcastic comments that could hurt like knives cutting through thin air.

Suppressing his thoughts of the Dark Lord he continued to concentrate onto the boy in front of him, playing out the one card he could use just now for the boy's sake as he had done so often during the past years with others of the children in his house to get them to somehow trust him.

"You are not the first one of my students who end up here, child." He whispered, now running his long fingers gently over the boy's other arm, still feeling for anything he could use to work with in the first place while massaging the oily potion into the pale and soft, yet scarred skin. "I know that you do fear me, child. And I do not hold this against you. But there _is no_ need to fear me. You are perfectly safe here, even if you do not believe me now. Yet, you will learn to trust me, I am sure of this. Fear, you have to know, is something that we learn. We do something, and we got punished, beaten in your case with the Dursleys. And thus you learned that, whatever you did, got a beating. And that this beating was painful. Your brain remembers this fact."

Well, he did not exactly know if Potter was able to understand the logical fact behind his words, he did not even know if he understood anything he said at all, but he at least had to try. And really, it did not really matter what he said, as long as he just continued speaking and as long as he did not threaten the boy with anything just now.

"In your case, the more you do something that gets this punishment, warranted or not, well, one day you learned that anything you do would get a beating. But that is not as it should be. And it is not what will be either. You will not go back to the Dursleys. Absolutely never will you go back there, as I now have guardianship over you. And here, you will be perfectly safe with me. I will neither beat you, nor harm you in any other way."

Releasing the thin arm he slowly reached for one of Potter's legs, beginning to massage the ankle, working upwards over the thin calf towards a knobbly knee.

"You now just have to relearn, Potter." He continued while the boy got more and more nervous and tense the more he neared the thigh, and that for the boy's genitals and he prepared himself for the next panic attack, willing himself to just continue while watching the boy close. "This will not be easy, but it is possible. Your brain works like this, learning new things with every day, with every new experience you gain, and one day you will have learned that you do not have to fear every one, that you do not have to fear every touch."

The boy in front of him now trembled like mad and his body was as tense as it could be without snapping in two while the small fingers gripped the meanwhile loose folds of the sheets beneath him, clinging to them like a lifeline, his eyes pressed close and his teeth pressed together to suppress whimpering with fear while he held his breath.

"You have nothing to fear, child. I will not touch you there." Snape reassured the boy in front of him while he finally released the thin thigh and gathered the boy's other leg, keeping his flow of words up. "You are quite safe. Just breathe. I am not your uncle, and I will do nothing your uncle did to you. Now take a breath. That's it. There is absolutely nothing you have to fear. And I am sure with the time given, you will learn just this. Now release your breath. That is just fine, child. With the time given, you will learn to trust me. But just now, I am ready to accept your fear and I will not hold it against you. Take a new breath now. You do this well, child. Neither will I cast you away because of your fear, nor will I be disappointed. It will be quite all right. And now just release your breath again and then take a new one. Just breathe, you are quite fine, child."

Finally releasing this leg as well he gritted his teeth for a second. The boy still was laying in front of him, his eyes pressed shut with all force he could muster and his teeth were still pressed together. He had continued breathing this time, slowly, and only under Snape's guidance, but he had continued this time, not like the last time in the infirmary.

Slowly Severus reached out towards the boy's tense face and touched the clammy forehead, gently running his long fingers over the cold and damp skin, ignoring the immediate flinch and the startled whimper of fear, lingering with his fingertips for a moment longer before he removed his hand and placed it with a firm grip onto the boy's shoulder.

"Turn around, Potter." He finally sighed. "And do not be afraid. I will not harm you. I only wish to cover those cuts on your back with more of the healing potion. It is important that they do not become any more infected. Enough harm has already been done to your body and we do not need more infection."

Harry slowly, nearly reluctantly did as he was told and turned around on the bed, stilling himself against the ever present recollections of the past and the possibilities of future disasters. But he was not able to still his ever present trembling.

Even if Potter now had his back on him and the boy could not see him, Severus used slow movements. The boy would sense what he was doing. His fear was sitting much too deep and he surely was ways too sensitive of his surroundings.

Forcing himself back into calmness he again poured a few drops of the oily potion onto his palm and began to carefully cover the cuts on the boy's back before he systematically began to massage the stiff muscles of the boy's neck, slowly moving down towards the tense shoulders. He worked in silence for a few minutes before speaking again. "As I already told you, since this morning I am official your guardian and you are safe now, Potter. You do not have to go back to the Dursleys."

Snape could not see the boy's face, but he could read his body language all too easy. His flinch when he said that he was his new guardian. The boy would fear him as he did fear his uncle, and he did not a moment believe him that he was safe.

"You are under a false impression that I wish to correct." He said. "I do not wish to cause you any harm. In the contrary, Potter. I know that you do not believe one word I say to you, but you _are_ safe. We may be strict, for we have to run a school for young witches and wizards, and believe me, that is no easy task. Especially I may be strict, because I teach a dangerous subject and I work with children not easy to handle because – many of them – are coming from a household just as yours. But never ever has one of us mistreated any child. Nor has any of us ever laid hands on our students. Thus I promise you that I will not hurt you, child."

A soft sob coming from the boy made him stop in his movements for a moment and shaking his head in frustration he continued to massage the healing potion into the scarred skin.

"What's wrong, child?" He asked, eyes softening slightly. He knew exactly what was bothering Potter. He wanted to believe the words. He desperately wanted to feel safe once in his life. Without the fear of being beaten, of being punished, of being starved, of being raped. Without any fears at all. But he could not make himself to believe those words. And maybe he did not even know how safeness felt, and he could not really think of any way to get the boy to believe him. He only could show him over and over again until the boy would learn the feeling and thus being able to recognize it.

"Just hush, Potter." He said softly. "Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Just trust me, and close your eyes. Nothing will happen to you. Do not press them shut, but close them in a relaxed way. I promise you, nothing will happen while you do not watch your surroundings or my movements. You are quite safe. Just close your eyes and try to feel what is different, to feel what safety feels like."

His dark eyes fixed on the small form in front of him while he continued to just carefully knead the tense muscles for a few more minutes, noticing that at some point the boy really had closed his eyes, and once he heard Potter's sobs lessen, getting lower, he continued to whisper softly until the boy's breathing evened out, signalling that he was no longer awake.

Just then he brought his movements and his words to a halt, slowly so the boy would not wake at the sudden change and he wiped his hands with a towel before he carefully placed the blanket over the small body.

For a short moment he allowed himself another small smile while he watched the sleeping boy, now laying relaxed in front of him. They had managed the first evening. They just had to manage the night now.

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Terrified screams drew Severus from his slumber and he quickly rose and made his way toward the sounds which were coming from Potter's room. Shoving the door open he saw the boy twisting desperately around on the bed with tears running down his face, deeply caught in a nightmare and he winced at the sight before him. The boy literally was curled up in a small ball on the bed, cowering from some unseen force while he wordlessly begged and pleaded, shaking his head.

"Potter, wake up." Snape said, with no effect. He reached down and shook the boy's shoulder. Yet – he did not wake up, he only opened his eyes, but without really waking up, without really seeing, he jerked away from Snape's touch and backed away so quickly he would have fallen off the other side of the bed if there would not have been the wall in his back.

"Hush child, it's me, Professor Snape. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." Severus murmured, reaching out to wrap his arms around the terrified boy. He held on, even as Potter struggled desperately to escape, limbs flailing. "Hush, child, you're safe here. I've got you. You are quite safe." Severus whispered into the boy's ear and continued to hold the young wizard close.

"No, no, please, no more please." The boy muttered with a look of sheer terror in his face and lifted his arms to cover his face and the only thing Snape could do was to try and calm him physically by rocking him further and whispering soothing words into his ears. "Hush, child. Come on, it is alright. You are safe. It is only a dream, you just have to wake up."

But Potter didn't wake up.

Of course, he could have shaken him awake, with the result that he would have had the next full blown panic attack at his hand afterwards. So he just continued and tried to calm the boy, hoping that either the boy would calm in his sleep, or that he would wake up completely.

"Please don't, uncle Vernon." The boy softly whimpered in his sleep, looking far too young and helpless, and when Snape moved to touch his face, to whip the tears away, he shrank back even farther, covering his face with his arms. Yet – the head of Slytherin held Harry tight to his chest, not giving the boy any room to escape.

It took him minute after minute until the boy finally was fully awake and calm enough to notice his surroundings, to notice he _was_ awake and it only had been a dream.

And as he had feared, the first thing was, that Potter fought against him to get out of his grip, not realizing that he really was safe now, so the only thing Severus could do was to keep the boy in a secure grip and reminding him several times of where they were and who was in the room. And more importantly, who was not there.

But instead of calming down further, instead of relaxing a bit, he confused the Potions Master further with tensing up once again, a startled expression on his fearful gaze and Severus easily could see, the boy would have chanted apologizes over apologizes, would he have been able to. Yet – he did not know what for besides of the fact that he'd had the nightmare in the first place, what was quite ridiculous apologizing for.

"Easy, Potter." He whispered soothingly. "You have nothing to fear because of having a nightmare. You will not be punished for such, nor will it ever be held against you. Just calm down and relax. You are quite safe."

It slowly but surely worked, due to his words and Potter finally understanding them, or simply due to the boy's tiredness, Severus did not really know. However, getting the boy back to sleep was nearly impossible he soon realized and so he gently rocked him in his arms while still talking to him, his voice louder this time in the hope he would reach through the semi sleeping state he was in, but otherwise as gentle as he could until the boy finally was calming down enough so he could at least give a small nod as an answer.

It took him nearly an hour to calm the boy in his arms. Until his breathing slowly regularized, his sobs and the trembling lessened, and the boy finally started to drift back into a deep sleep, the exhaustion of his body finally winning over the fears of his dreams.

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_The first day in the care of Severus Snape for Harry_

_Yet again Snape has to learn as well as Harry and he has to improvise _

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you

**Meanwhile in Hogwarts - dungeons - Severus Snape's quarters:**

Harry: ( is watching evil minded with fascination )

Severus: ( is watching Harry with a curious gaze )

Harry: ( gazing at Severus ) what?

Severus: I wonder what you are watching with such an interest that I would wish you to show during my potions class

Harry: öhm … Krümel …

Severus: ( raises a curious eyebrow ) what is it with her this time?

Harry: she is in this strange state again

Snape: ( looks at evil minded, then looks at the top of the page )

Harry: it is the reviews again, isn't it?

Snape: yes, I guess it is – she got more than one hundred up to now – I wonder why ...

Harry: öhm … you remember the last time she had this strange look?

Snape: ( with a questioning expression on his face ) yes, I quite remember, why?

Harry: öhm … well …

Snape: care to finish your sentence without stuttering like a slow and dim witted first year?

Harry: hey! I AM a first year, remember?

Snape: ( sighing in mocked frustration ) yes, I do remember – every single day

Harry: however, last time, she did not really recover soon, I mean, she had this strange look for quite a few hours …

Snape: and you are concerned about this?

Harry: well, not really, but this time she got twice as much reviews … do you think she will be in shock twice as much hours?

Snape: I guess you have to wait and see – but nothing to worry about, she will recover

Harry: oh … ok …

Snape: .oO( how eloquent )

Harry: hey … I know what you thought …

Snape: ( smirking ) I know …

Harry: ( rolling his eyes ) tell me a good night story?

Snape: ok … once upon a day – there was a boy called Harry who got himself into trouble one day by asking his Potions Professor for telling him a good night story …

Harry: hmpf … ok, ok … I am going to bed … good night …


	12. down in the dungeons: the first day

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ...

And yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_It took him nearly an hour to calm the boy in his arms. Until his breathing regularized, his sobs and trembling lessened, and the boy finally started to drift back into a deep sleep, the exhaustion of his body finally winning over the fears of his dreams._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter twelve**

**Down in the dungeons – the first day**

He had known that the first time would not be easy and alone yesterday evening had proven his worst fears. It had been a nightmare. Alone trying to get the boy to eat or to take a bath, even to sleep in his bed instead of – on the floor – had been pure horror that had re-sparked the flames of his anger he felt towards the Dursleys.

Well, this first night had been filled with more than one nightmare and he had woken up countless times to the boy's silent crying or to the softly muttered begs, pleas and apologies as he dreamed about the abuse, had been trying to calm the boy somewhat, assuring him he would not be punished for a simple nightmare so he could fall back to sleep.

In the end Severus had had no other choice than to simply sit beside the boy, keeping him in his arms as he realized that it was fruitless to try and go back into his own bed. The boy had been sleeping more at ease while he was holding him in a gentle but reassuring grip.

Harry awoke feeling strangely calm and comfortable. But then, paling, he realized that he was wrapped in Professor Snape's arms and he embarrassedly recalled the previous night's events. He had felt so safe and wanted while the Professor had held him. The kindness and understanding the man had offered him had overwhelmed him, and the idea of being left alone again had terrified him. He had desperately clung to the man, needing that acceptance and comfort, silently crying himself into sleep. Surprisingly enough, the man had stayed.

Keeping his eyes closed he suppressed a yawn and willed his body to be still, avoiding to stretch his limbs, thinking about the situation he had found himself in. Last night as well as just now.

His Professor could have torn him to shreds last night, when he had woken him up. Just like uncle Vernon always had done. He could have beaten him for that just like uncle Vernon had done countless times.

But on the other hand … yes, Professor Snape could have been horrible last night. But instead he'd been helpful, and … well, just comforting, nothing else, had sat with him and stroke his back and talked to him quietly and gently.

What he did not understand was, why he was not able to control himself any longer. Why was it that he had never cried in more than five or six years now, since he had learned that crying would get him nowhere, in the contrary, that crying would make uncle Vernon just the more angry and the beatings just the more worse.

He always had managed to somehow display a perfect control over himself. Until now. And he did not understand why this control had slipped now. What was it that his Professor did to him that made him so weak? It was just disturbing.

Well, of course it felt good to just let this control slip for a moment. To let go of his mask for once. To be just himself for one time in his life. But on the other hand ... he felt strange. He felt weak, and he did not like this feeling. He could not afford to be weak. Being weak meant that the next beating would only hurt worse.

Severus Snape, Potions Master and head of Slytherin house of Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry frowned when he noticed Harry suppressing a yawn, avoiding to stretch his limbs. Had those damn muggles really beat the smallest impulses out of him? Even if not fully awake? What benefit would they gain out of such? Yawning and stretching was a natural human reflex after all!

He cursed inwardly. Nothing with Potter would ever be easy, now would it?

Sighing in frustration he addressed the boy who was still laying beside him, his head leaning against his shoulder. "You may open your eyes, Mr. Potter. There is no need to avoid waking. Nothing bad will happen when you are awake."

Immediately he noticed the shivering that came from the small body beside him and for a moment he regretted having addressed the boy, having disturbed this small time of peace the boy had.

But then, he couldn't allow Potter to lay there forever. Of course he would not visit classes the next two or three weeks at least, but he had to do work nevertheless. He would have to learn, signs, writing and other school stuff, and he would have to do exercises. Not to mention the fact that he would have to learn such a simple fact as – eating.

Sighing he gently shoved Potter into a sitting position and got off the bed, eying the boy with a strange expression on his face.

"Last night I noticed that you do not have any clothing besides of your school uniforms and a few things that are – well, quite not suitable." He said, ignoring the boy paling further at his words. "Thus I have shrunken some of my clothes into your size. You may use them until we have the time to buy you appropriate clothing. Will you be able to go to the bathroom by yourself?"

When the boy quickly nodded he turned and left the room, entering his own bedroom. He would allow Potter his privacy for once, but he wanted to be close to the bathroom, just encase.

He fetched some of his own clothes and a fresh robe while he listened with one ear towards the bathroom for sounds of distress or trouble the boy might have, while he considered his actions over the day.

First of all, he would have the boy to begin eating. And then he would show him a few signs.

Trying to teach him how to read, not to mention how to write, he doubted that this would be a wise action just now. In a few days he would be able to do so, but not now. Just now he would try and work on the thin line of trust they had managed during the last night. If he even could talk of trust. More likely it had been exhaustion that had caused the boy to fall asleep in his arms.

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After leading Potter from his room to the couch in the living area a few minutes later, Snape came back into the living room, carrying a pillow and a blanket in his arms which he placed at the sofa beside the boy. The night before he had been laying beside Potter at the edge of the bed, not daring to move, one foot dangling over the edge and the boy had slept in peace for at least four hours. Which Snape was grateful for, but what - at the same time - he knew was not nearly enough sleep the boy needed just now. And now the boy was sitting at the large sofa, stiff as a board, and he looked even smaller and more fragile than the days before. His face was tense and his hands were clenched into each other with anticipation.

The green eyes in the pale face were still tired. Four hours of sleep after a day that was mentally tiring were just none to nothing and surely did not cover the exhaustion that had taken place during the evening and night.

"Lay down, Mr. Potter!" He ordered. "You do not have to go to bed during the day, but I wish you to remain horizontal on the sofa. As I intent to teach you a few signs and other things, and thus I wish you to pay attention, the day will be strenuous enough to you, I guess."

The boy did as he had been told and laid down – what caused Snape to grit his teeth in frustration.

Potter curled into a small ball beside – beside – the pillow, without using neither the pillow nor the blanket. Closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath he took the blanket and gazed down at the boy. "The pillow actually exists to rest your head onto its feathers. Use it!" He ordered.

For a moment the boy looked like he would protest, but then he again did as he was told and crept towards the pillow, resting his head at the soft material, carefully, unsure, casting quick and fearful glances towards Snape.

Shaking his head the Potions Master placed the blanket over the thin body, ignoring the flinch and again retreated, into the small kitchen this time, to make tea. Of course he could have ordered tea from the school kitchens, but he had his own tea and he knew exactly which one he just now needed. Or rather, which one the boy needed. So he placed the kettle over the fire and slowly threw some dried leaves into the teapot, crumbling them with his fingers.

When he re-entered the hall, the boy still lay there as he had left him, tense and unmoving, as if he feared something terrible would happen if he moved. Well, what probably was exactly _what_ the boy was thinking.

"You may move, Mr. Potter. You do not have to keep stock still like a sculpture." Snape said as he placed the tray with two cups and the teapot onto the table, filling both cups, adding honey into one and reaching it to the boy. "This is only tea with anise, fennel, camomile and honey. It will help you to sooth your nerves and settle your stomach. I wish you to drink it, but carefully, it is hot."

Potter's eyes immediately grew wide with fear and he refused to take the cup, slightly shaking his head and gasping for air and Snape again closed his eyes with frustration while taking a deep breath.

Not knowing what exactly had caused the fear this time, Snape cast a cooling spell at the mug and tried again to give the cup to the boy. "It is not as hot now that you would burn your lips or tongue by drinking." He explained, but the boy still eyed the offered cup fearfully and the headshaking movements did not stop.

Severus sighed "Let me guess, Mr. Potter, your uncle would not allow you to drink this tea." It was not a question but a statement, and the boy gave no answer, his eyes darting between the cup and the Potions Master's face and Snape sighed again.

"Then allow me to explain a few things to you, Mr. Potter." Snape said, placing the cup at the table and seating himself into one of the armchairs. "In your family your uncle is the head of your house. Isn't he?" He asked.

Harry considered this question for a moment and then he nodded, his eyes never leaving the older wizard.

"Good." Snape said. "Then, if your uncle is the head of your house, you have to obey him. Haven't you?"

Again Harry nodded. More quickly this time.

"Well, your uncle is not here. Is he?" Snape asked, forming statement for statement and ending every single one with a question so the boy could concentrate onto each one, so he would have to answer each one with a simple shaking of his head or a simple nod. Only thus he could be sure the boy would understand everything he said. And this time he shook his head.

"Good. He is not here. Of course not. But I am here. And here I am the head of your house. Am I?"

A nod. And Snape clearly could see the fear in Potter's features rising as he began to compare him to his uncle. Well, he had expected this. The boy would have to learn that he was not his uncle. But he had to acknowledge him as his head of house. And then he had to learn that not every head of a house was abusive.

"So, if I am the head of your house, it would be only logical that I expect you to obey me. Correct?"

Again a nod, an even more fearful one this time.

"Good. Thus, I expect you to drink this tea, Mr. Potter." Snape simply said, again reaching the cup towards the trembling boy. And this time, the boy really took the still warm mug, carefully at first, but then pressing his thin fingers at the porcelain as if trying to absorb the warmth into his hands. Snape allowed himself a small, barely visible smile.

"Good. That is what I expect of you. Now let me explain further, Mr. Potter." He continued. "Whenever you did not obey your uncle, you got punished, am I right?"

Again a nod, a hesitant one.

"Well, here you have to obey my orders. If you do, you will be rewarded. Whether with house points or with other things we will discuss later. If you do not obey, then here as well you will be punished. Do you understand thus far?"

The boy had taken a small sip meanwhile and he slowly nodded, his eyes still lingering fearful at the Potions Master who by himself now nodded.

"However, believe me, Mr. Potter. You will not be punished for small mistakes. You will not be punished for example when you simply spill something, or when you just drop something. And you will not be punished for an accident. Neither for things you are just not capable to accomplish, nor for things you cannot help. You only will be punished for disobedience in matters which you could have obeyed or which are dangerous in some way for yourself or others around you. Do you understand what I wish to tell you?"

This time the boy took much longer to consider what Snape had said. And the nod this time was a careful nod, an unsure one and Snape lowered his head to his left.

"Not easy to understand in your case, I know. But believe me, you will learn with time what I mean by this. And you will learn with time what I expect from you. Important is only that you will not be punished for minor things that happen. This you do understand?"

This time the nod was a bit more sure, even if not as sure as Snape would have liked. Yet, he accepted it.

"Good. Now the punishment itself. A punishment can be house points which are taken on your behalf, or house intern points that are taken from you. A punishment can be detention. Or a ban from Quidditch or Hogsmead visits. A punishment can be an essay to write, or simply lines to write. There are a lot of options. But, what you have to learn is, that a punishment will never, _absolutely never_, be a beating. We do not beat our students. Nor do we deny them food, drinking, sleep, healing or other essential supplies. Do you understand this?"

This time it took a long time until the boy finally gave a small nod and Snape was sure that he may have understood, but that he did not believe the words and he gave a sad sigh. Yet – had he really thought this to be so easy?

He nevertheless dropped the subject, he knew it would come up soon enough again when the situation called for it and instead he began to teach the boy a few simple signs which he remembered, explaining them and urging him to repeat them over and over again.

Watching the slow and unsure movements Snape easily noticed that the boy did not like to move at all. Maybe it was some kind of hiding. As long as he did not move he would not be seen, and as long as he was not seen, he would not get in trouble, and as long as he did not get in trouble, he would not be punished. It was a simple thing.

So he tried to assure the boy over and over again that there was no need to fear using this signs. That he may feel awkward now, but that he would get used to them, that they would help him to communicate.

In the end he had to assure the boy over and over again that he would not be punished if he moved his hands, if he was existent, if he was present.

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What was sort of a nightmare, as Severus just learned about an hour later when he ordered a cup of warm milk with honey and rusk from the kitchens for breakfast, was that Harry was just unable to eat. Well, for to be correct, the boy _did_ eat – at least after Severus ordered him to, after – again – explaining that he was allowed to eat, that he – Snape – as his head of house expected him to eat.

Well, only to throw up several minutes later.

He had vanished the mess with a silent flick of his wand and gazing into the boy's terrified eyes he had told him over and over again that it had not been his fault and that he would not be punished for being ill. Yet, he had doubted that the boy really understood his assurances. But he at least had to try and so he had offered them anyway.

In the end he just ordered him to try and get some sleep on the sofa.

Yet again – without success.

The boy was in no state to rest, to close his eyes which never left the older wizard's movements and sighing Snape finally turned towards the large piano that stood in the opposite corner of the room and began to play.

He just needed something that calmed his nerves, that allowed him to move his hands, his fingers, to get some of his own tension out of himself. He needed something to do, and to do with success. With immediate success. And that was – playing the piano.

It was a slow and soft composition as the Potions Master allowed his own strained nerves to calm down and he felt himself relax more and more as he closed his eyes and allowed his tension to leave.

Half an hour later when he cast a glance at the sofa he was surprised to find the sleeping form of Potter lying there, his eyes closed and his face much more calm than before.

So, music was a key to reach through. Snape smiled.

Still watching the boy, thoughtfully, he noticed the slight tremble that even in sleep troubled the small form beginning to increase, his hands forming fists, and carefully Snape reached over, placing his hand onto the small shoulder in a calming manner, wondering exactly what skills Potter may have when he had managed to land himself in his house, in Slytherin.

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He simply had spelled a nutrition potion into the boy's system as soon as he noticed the boy was asleep and now he sat in the armchair he had inherited earlier that morning. Of course he knew that it had not been a really good idea to spell the potion into Potter's system yet again. The boy was much too underweight for such. But he was much too underweight for missing anything that could be considered as a meal as well. Whatever he could get into this boy he _would_ get into him.

The next time he gazed into Potter's direction he could see two emerald green eyes watching him warily and for a moment he had to think of – yet again – Lily Evans. For a moment he sat there, unmoving, just watching the boy, Lily Evans' son, while he noticed how much he resembled his mother. He resembled her so much more than his father. Of course, he had James Potter's black and unruly mop of hair, he noticed not for the first time. And his bad eyesight as it seemed. But otherwise ... the soft chin, the fine lips, and the pale skin. No, he really resembled more his mother.

Lily Evans. The only person he ever had loved. Lily Evans who had died because of him.

Gritting his teeth and clenching his hands into fists he summoned the healing potion and seated himself on the edge of the table in front of Potter. It was time that he took a look at the injuries. He guessed they were healing, but without the magical healing potions they normally used, they took longer than normal and he had to ensure that they were not infected.

"Take off your shirt." He whispered, Lily still lingering somewhere on his mind.

Yet – Harry backed up against the backrest of the sofa and shaking his head he trembled violently, his breathing becoming more and more panicked gasps.

"I'm Sorry." He signed, shaking his head in a pleadingly manner.

The Potions Master sighed. _That_ ... surely was no sign he had taught the boy. He had held this one back knowingly. For he had been sure the boy would use this one much too often and only out of his fear. Well, he had found out by himself, and Snape had to admit that the boy was a quick student. But, what the hell had caused this reaction now, in this moment?

Not a nightmare. The boy had been awake since at least a few minutes.

He had ordered him to take off his shirt, but he had kept his voice low and gentle. As his mind still had been on Lily.

Maybe the fact that he had told him to take off his shirt at all. He knew Potter did not like to undress. Of course not.

But then, what exactly did he fear? Potter knew that he had seen him without a shirt a few times now. That he had applied the healing potion a few times now.

Well, maybe the command itself. This command, he guessed, had been coming often enough along with beatings. And even if he had promised the boy that he would not beat him, well, it would be strange if the boy would have believed him so soon.

And – thinking of it – he had gritted his teeth and he had clenched his hands into fists. And together with his order, well ... of course the boy thought the worst in the first place.

He moved his hand to touch the trembling shoulder, but immediately the boy rolled into a small ball, pressing the thin arms over his head and trying to pretend not being present by simply closing his eyes.

Pressing his lips together Severus grabbed Harry's two hands by his wrists and carefully pulled them down, forcing the boy to face him. "Look at me!" He simply ordered. "Look into my eyes."

When his trembling ceased a little, Harry opened his eyes and looked into Severus' face. Green eyes met black ones. The Potions Master held up the vial with the healing potion, turned the small glass container in his long fingers and showed the boy what it was.

"This is only the healing potion, Mr. Potter." He explained calmly. "I only will take care of your cuts and bruises. Nothing more. Nothing bad will happen and I promise it will not even hurt as bad as you now will fear. It will hurt a bit, but not more than your back hurts now while you are pressed against the backrest of the sofa."

This time it took a few minutes until Potter gave a small nod away, sat up and slowly, unsurely pulled the shirt over his head.

But he did, and he did so by himself. Snape thought that might be an improvement.

Inspecting the remaining injuries, Severus continued to speak with the boy, pouring a bit of the potion into his palm. "They are not healed yet. But at least they are not infected either. And they are closed, finally." He stated, reaching towards the boy's chest to simply begin with the injuries on his front. "A few days and they will be only scars. I will ..."

He did not end his sentence as the boy gave a startled scream away and immediately draw his knees towards his chest and curled into a small ball, trembling violently while small whimpers escaped him. Well, maybe _that_ approach had been a bit too quickly.

A furious wave of anger towards some muggles named Dursley crashed over the Potions Master, but he willed himself to remain calm and perfectly still, his hand hovering motionless in mid-air until the boy unfold himself and, still sitting in front of him, trembling, cast an unsure and desperate look at him. Severus waited patiently and motionless until he was sure the boy had his fear back under control before he reached out and slowly placed his left palm onto the small shoulder, stilling the child.

"Stay still." He ordered soothingly, his eyes still locked with the boy's, trying to anchor him with his eyes, to keep him grounded. "I will be careful, I promise. I will not hurt you."

Finally massaging the oily potion over one of the bruises with his right hand, his touch as gentle as possible, he sighed. "I never would hurt any student, Harry." He said and the boy's eyes shot up at him, nearly startled. Well, yes ... he had used 'Harry', instead of 'Potter' or 'Mr. Potter' in a sentence during a normal conversation for the first time, and he chuckled lightly running his hand over the next healing cut.

Until now he had used the boy's given name only in a situation where he needed to sooth him, to get him calm.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I used this term. Harry." And he smiled at the still wary look the boy cast at him.

He finally placed his right hand onto the boy's other shoulder and turned him slightly so he could take care of the boy's back and his next words were serious again. "Before we will try to get something for lunch into you, I will show you a few more signs. I have visited the library while you were asleep and I brought a book."

Leaning back Snape whipped his hands at a towel and closed the vial before he took a leather bound book from the table behind him. "I know you cannot read, but I ..."

For the second time this morning he was not able to finish his sentence as the boy slowly reached a trembling hand towards the book, unsure, watching him fearfully. He stopped midair, waited a few seconds before he reached further, as if questioning if he was allowed to touch the book and Snape held the tome towards him, giving his allowance. Watching the boy close and with narrowed eyes he tried to ignore the bony fingers that reached out towards the book and thus towards him, and kept his eyes locked with the boy's green ones instead.

Harry touched the book carefully, his eyes never leaving the dark eyes of the older wizard in front of him, and Snape nearly could hear the wild heartbeat that drummed against the small chest. Harry still held his gaze, even when his fingers run over the edges of the book he finally held it in his hands, pulled it towards him as slowly as he had extended his hands.

Snape kept silent, just watching the boy in front of him. Allowing him to just make this move, daring him with his stillness to just learn out of this. Daring him to learn he was allowed to make a move, to reach out, without being punished for it.

This had been the first approach the boy had made by himself, the first action he had given away rather than a reaction, and he slightly nodded his head, urging the boy to open the book and to have a look if he so wished to.

And finally the boy lowered his eyes and cast a glance at the cover, slowly opening it after he had once more cast a quick and fearful gaze at Snape.

Snape watched the boy studying the moving pictures and ...

Frowning slightly and lowering his head to his left he curiously watched the boy's eyes following the written explanations.

"You can read." He said, his voice surprised but low and gentle.

The boy nevertheless jumped and nearly dropped the book, watching the Potions Professor for a few seconds before he finally nodded, slowly and carefully.

"You can not write, but you can read." Snape once again stated and again the boy nodded.

"You know that this is simplifying things, don't you?" He asked with another small smile, but this time he did not get an answer as Harry Potter was lost in the book.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Would the boy at least be able to speak, to tell him what exactly bothered him, what was wrong, if he was in pain, in fear, and if so then why, whatever. But that was not the case and Severus could only guess. What meant a pure guessing game, for this boy was able to hide his pain and his fear, all his feelings far better than any other child he knew thus far.

Yet, he had hoped that, at least sometime during the day, handling the boy would be a bit more easy. But he had been wrong.

Looking up from his book Harry noticed that his professor was not sitting opposite him in the armchair anymore and he let out a sigh of relieve. He had to use the loo and he felt much more safe to move and go there without the professor watching him.

On the other hand, the headache that was growing worse with every minute that passed, he wondered if he could ask the professor for a potion that would help. After all, Professor Snape was a Potions Master, and he guessed that he had such things. And it would be a relief to have something that would take this pain away. If only this one time.

He guessed he could find the professor, maybe in the small kitchen. Somehow he knew he would not be far away.

But then he would have to touch Professor Snape would he want to gain his attention. But he couldn't do _that_. Not now, that was just out of question, he was not ready for that. So he just sat at the sofa and after a few seconds he dismissed the idea. He could deal with his headache. It was just better than touching the professor and disturbing him. And besides of this, he didn't deserve it anyway. Uncle Vernon often enough had said so. He did not deserve any medications, nor other medical treatment. He was not good enough for such. And he did not really understand why Professor Snape thought otherwise, why he gave him anything when it was so plain that he was nothing more than a simple freakish thing.

So he slowly placed the book at the coffee table and climbed from under the blanket and off the sofa, taking a few steps towards the middle door to his left, ignoring the dizziness. He was used to this after all. It was not the first time.

But this time he swayed and blackness began to cloud his eyesight, and feeling his feet giving out from under him he tried to reach out to steady himself with one of the armchairs or the couch, whichever he would be able to reach first. But he missed the furniture and he would have hit the ground would not steadying hands of whom ever had come up behind him had gripped his shoulders.

Snape re-entered the living room just in time to see Potter swaying and his knees giving out under him and in his clouded eyes he easily could see the dizziness that overrun the boy. In a flash he closed the gap between them, gripping the small shoulders and without effort he steadied the boy. Yet, startled at the unexpected touch and still not able to see anything else than blackness Potter backed up into the wall with fear in his eyes and instinctively raising his arms to cover his face.

Everything froze for a second before Snape took hold of Harry's arms and lowered them slowly, gently. "Foolish boy." He said in a low and gentle voice. "It is only me. Are you all right now?" His voice was worried.

Harry couldn't answer. He was still trembling slightly and he still felt numb. He just shook his head and struggled to pull himself together.

Well, even if he had been able to give some kind of an answer, he did not really want to. He had to use the loo, and he did not wish his professor to accompany him into there.

Snape on the other hand noticed his discomfort easily. "Hush, Mr. Potter ... it is all right. What is wrong?" He asked in a quiet tone of voice, so as not to scare Harry more. Yet – his voice was demanding nevertheless.

Sighing in defeat Harry pointed towards the bathroom and Snape nodded, leading the boy by his shoulders towards the door which opened as soon as they neared, and Snape led Potter inside before he turned to leave.

"I will wait outside." He said. "I expect you to move slowly and to use the walls for support. If something happens I guess I will hear it and I _will_ enter."

Well, the boy would be all right, he had guessed while he scrolled through some parchments he held in his hands, the first potions essays from the first-years Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, hearing the flush and then a while later the faucet – until he heard a loud cracking noise that sounded as if something hit the washbowl.

What meant – Potter was not all right, Snape sighed and entered the bathroom.

He had left Potter standing in the large room, but now he was laying on the floor in front of the washbowl, trembling, curled into a small ball and his fearful eyes immediately locked into his dark ones, pain clearly visible in his face and Snape crossed the distance with a few quick strides.

Harry flinched back at his professor's quick strides towards him but immediately he regained his control over himself and he tried to still his trembling, tried to prepare himself for getting up. And he really _should_ get up. Professor Snape surely would not be pleased if he was so weak that he did not get up by himself. And waiting until the professor would have to help him to get up, or to order him to get up, would only make the man angry.

"What happened, Harry?" Snape asked, kneeling beside the boy.

"I am sorry." Was all the boy signed, while he tried to get up from the floor, rolling onto his hands and knees, at least trying to do so until Snape laid his hand onto the boy's shoulder and pushed him back down.

"You will not get up without having me looking at the damage done first, Mr. Potter. And what, in Merlin's name, made you apologize, child?"

Gently he increased the pressure his hand had on the shaking shoulder, waiting for the boy to give away some more signs, but not one came and Snape noticed the fingers of both hands that were tangled into a knot over his chest and a fine track of blood running down from a cut at his forehead onto the floor. The boy seemed to have trouble with his breathing, and with each breath he winced slightly, barely visible. But as the spy he was, Snape easily noticed and came to the right conclusion.

"I guess you got dizzy again, collapsed, hit your head at the washbasin and by falling re-broke your ribs, am I right?" He asked after opening a locked cubicle of the bathroom cabinet and taking out a healing potion, his voice as calm as possible and the boy slowly nodded.

Soaking a soft cloth with the potion Severus reached out to press it against the head wound, yet – how could it have been otherwise – the boy flinched back from the nearing hand and he froze midair, waiting patiently until the boy had himself back under control and uncurled himself.

"I did not intent to hurt you, Harry." He sighed. "I know that I will have to tell you this a lot more often during the next days, but I would appreciate it, if you began to at least try and believe me. This is a simple healing potion that I will cover the wound on your head with. In a few minutes the wound will be closed and in a few days only a slight scar will be left."

Harry finally nodded and allowed Severus to continue, to reach out and touch his face.

"Thank you, Harry." Severus silently said, locking into the still frightened green eyes with his steady black ones, assuring the boy that he meant it and that he, Harry, was meant to accept it.

"Alright, then let us get you back into bed, Mr. Potter." He said, ignoring the terrified flinch as he reached out both hands and slid them under the boy's back and knees, lifted him easily from the floor and carried him into the boy's rooms, laid him back onto the bed. He gritted his teeth at the low but painful scream that escaped the boy at this movement, as the boy immediately rolled back onto his side and draw his knees as close to his chest as possible, whimpering again at the pain the movement caused, tensing the little muscles he had in this position to a point where Snape only could shake his head.

"Not, Harry." He whispered. "This position only will cause you more pain and I have need to have a look at your ribs. Which is impossible with you curled up like a ball. Try to uncurl, Harry."

But the boy only shook his head no, his teeth still gritted.

"Alright, Harry." Snape soothed. "Listen to me. Just try to relax. Relax as much as you can, and I will try to uncurl you. I will do it slowly and I will be as careful as possible. You have nothing else to do than to try and relax as much as possible."

Slowly he placed his right hand over the boy's collarbone, avoiding to come in touch with the broken ribs, and his other hand onto his knees, slowly pulling the thin knees away from the boy's chest.

"The pain will ease, I promise." Snape said gently at the small whimper that escaped the boy. "Just go on relaxing as much as you can, no haste is needed. That's just right."

Ignoring the slight film of perspiration that began to form on the boy's forehead he increased the pressure he had at the knees, but with another whimper the boy tried to turn even further into the pillow.

"No, child. Let go of your knees and try to relax. Don't worry, we will manage this. Just concentrate onto my voice and relax as much as possible." He guided the boy with a soft, gentle and encouraging tone of voice and ever so slowly, painfully slowly, Harry allowed Snape to pull his legs down, allowed Snape to uncurl him.

Unfortunately, it hurt as much as getting into this position, or staying in it, and more than once he would have just given up, would have just pulled his knees back towards his chest, if it hadn't been for the professor's encouraging voice.

"You are doing a great job. Really. Just go on relaxing. I am going to stretch your feet now, to pull them downwards. Just go on and relax further." Snape paused for a moment as he noticed Harry's shaking increase and the boy holding his breath. Looking into the thin face he noticed the boy was pale beyond his liking. "Breathe, child. We are almost there. Relax and breathe. We have just a little further yet. And you are doing just great."

Snape sighed a sigh of relief when he finally had the boy laying stretched on the bed. "There we are." He whispered. "We have done it. Just stay like this and continue breathing." He said, running his hands over the tense muscles, gently kneading them. "Breathe slowly, Harry. Try to relax further and take a deep breath. Come on, work with me. Slow breathes, boy!"

After what seemed to be an eternity he finally had managed to uncurl the boy completely and calm him at least enough that he took slow and deep breathes.

"That's it, child. Well done. Now drink this. It is a bone mending potion. It tastes bad, but it will help. You will feel the bones snap back into place, do not be startled at this, it is normal. After this you will feel a soft dragging but it will not be painful." Hoping that the boy would take the potion without another panic attack – that would undo their uncurling work – he reached a vial to the boy and to his great relieve Harry tried to unclench his fingers to take the potion.

"Easy, child." Snape continued to whisper. "No problem here. I will give you the potion and afterwards we can work on your hands and fingers."

Placing the vial at the boy's lips and dipping the bottom he poured the potion down the boy's throat and sighed another sigh of relieve when Harry kept his flat position. He waited a few moments until he was sure that the potion did its work.

"Do not startle, I will only massage your arms and try to get your fingers uncurled."

When his hands covered the boy's arms Harry flinched nevertheless, but he lay still and accepted the touch and carefully he began to knead the thin arms, again wondering if there were some muscles left at all. It felt as if the arm he held between his hands was made of only bones and sinews and skin.

"Try to relax them, Harry." He said as he rubbed at the clenching fingers, coaxing them to unclench, and again it seemed like an eternity until the boy finally relaxed enough that he – one by one – gently and carefully could pull the small fingers apart.

"You know, Harry, you really have done a great job just now." Snape actually smiled at the boy.

"I am sorry." Came – yet again – the slow and unsure, still tense sign and Snape shook his head.

"There is no need to be sorry, child. No harm is done and no punishment will follow. It is well, Harry. You really have done a great job, and I am proud of you."

The boy turned his head towards the wall and lowered his eyes in shame and with a low sigh Snape slowly extended his hand and gripped the bony chin, pulled the boy's face back towards him and tried to catch the boy's eyes.

"Look at me, Harry!" He ordered. "There is no need to be ashamed of anything. I know that you did not get any kind words from your relatives thus far and that it will take time to get used to it. But you should know that I do not give a praise if it is not called for. You _did_ a great job and I wish you to know this. Do you understand?"

The boy nodded barely visible and Snape nodded himself. "Are you better now?" He asked and again the boy nodded.

"Good. Do you think you can just lay there until I made tea? I will make a tea that will help you with the pain."

"I am not in ..." The boy slowly began to sign and Snape had to concentrate to understand the stiff signs before he held his hand up to stop him.

"Do not tell me you are not in pain, child. I know that you are used to pain, but I will not accept you _being_ in pain. And as I know you are, I will try to at least ease it with a tea as I cannot give you too much potions. But never, absolutely never, try to hide your pain from me. I do not wish to frighten you, but you will get in trouble if you try to hide your pain from me just once more. Did I make myself clear?"

When Harry nodded Snape stood up from the bed. "Good. I will be back in a few minutes." He said, then left the room, leaving the door open.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

When he came back and looked into the small face he noticed that the boy had his eyes closed and was asleep. Then he remembered, that he just the day ago had officially claimed guardianship over the boy, and he could not suppress a barely visible smile.

Guardianship over Potter.

No, not over Potter, nor over the Boy-Who-Lived, but over Harry, the Boy-Who-Had-Managed-To-Steal-A-Smile-From-Him. A small smile, but a smile, the first smile he had given away since more than nine years, since ten years now, a smile he never would show in anyone's presence, but a smile, and he shook his head.

How had this boy managed to wrestle himself ways into his heart?

He always had managed to keep a professional posture while dealing with the children of his house that he had taken under his care. He never had allowed them to come this close, he never had allowed himself to let those children this close. So why had he allowed Potter to overstep this clear line he always had drawn around himself?

He did not have an answer to this question, he only knew it had happened.

Yet – somehow he did not really care.

But would he be able to handle Potter with the same strength and with the same severity, with the same strictness that would be necessary at some points during the next days and weeks? Would he – now that he _had_ let this boy into his heart – be able to be as hard and demanding as he should be? Would he not coddle the boy too much for the boy's own good?

He did not know, and sighing heavily he realized that maybe he had made a mistake.

He could not take the liberty to allow Potter being this close to him, being this important to him. He had to take a step back and to keep his distance.

He was not only a teacher, he was a spy. His life was not a simple one and he risked his life every single day while meeting with the remaining Death Eaters every now and then. They would kill him without batting an eye if they found out that he was a spy. He walked a thin line every time he met with them.

And then there was his teaching.

He did not teach a simple subject as charms or transfiguration. He did teach potions. A subject as dangerous as defence against the dark arts.

They were not only playing with their wands. One single mistake from his students in the upper years, and not only the brewer would be dead but the entire classroom including himself would die too. Maybe even the entire school.

What was exactly the reason as to _why_ he was as harsh and demanding as he actually was with his students. He needed them to obey his ever command within the instant he gave this command.

If he shouted 'freeze', then he had to count on every single student to freeze in their movements within a heartbeat and without releasing the ingredient they held in their hands into the cauldron or without touching an ingredient or the potion itself. He needed them to fear him enough so that they would obey him without even thinking about the given command, within a split second.

And during the years he had build his reputation with careful steps. And he had build his reputation well.

He knew that most of the students called him a bastard. That they not only feared him, but that they hated him. That he caused most of them to burst into tears at least once during the school year.

Not his Slytherins. They did not hate him, but it was not necessary to make them hate him either. They respected him enough to obey his ever command during a potions class. Not to mention with other things as well. They knew he would give his life to keep them safe. And they respected him for this.

But the students from the other houses.

And thus he was quite pleased for the reputation he had. For the sake of this students.

And – well, it was not only a reputation at all. He _was _not a pleasant man after all. He was a harsh man. He was a former Death Eater after all. And none of them were pleasant people. Thus he was tough and unkind, cold and harsh. Without a heart. And he was quite glad that way. He did not have to care if he hurt someone's feelings. And he did not have to fear that someone would hurt his feelings, for there were none.

A small whimper disturbed his thoughts and gritting his teeth he turned towards the bed, annoyed at the fact that he still sat beside the bed, that he still was watching the boy in his sleep. He did not need such. He was no one who sat beside a child's bed to watch the sleeping brat.

"Potter, wake up!" Snape said, his voice harsher as he originally had planned. Yet, with no effect and he reached down and shook the boy's shoulder.

Instantly, Potter opened his eyes and he jerked out of the Potions Master's grasp and backed away so quickly he would have fell off the other side of the bed if there were not the wall in his back and Snape sighed.

Seeing the fear in those startled green eyes the Potions Master, who had been planing to take a step backwards and keep his distance from the boy, shook his head, sighing and gritting his teeth, noticing that he could not shove this boy aside.

He just could not. And he had promised him that he would not push him aside. He had – after all – climbed guardianship over this boy. And thus he had a responsibility for this boy he just now watched, and he reached out once again to touch the small shoulder.

Potter's back was against the wall, so he could not get any farther away, but he flinched at Snape's approach and the older wizard stopped where he was – something in that flinch disturbed him, warned him that he was nearing a line he did not truly wish to cross. Not now at least, not in this moment, and watching the boy closer he noticed that Potter was not fully awake yet.

Sighing Snape seated himself at the edge of the bed and slowly he approached the hunched over boy noting the way Potter was shaking ever so slightly. Grabbing the boy's chin he forced the startled green eyes to meet his.

Locking his dark eyes into the green ones he not only forced the boy to slowly acknowledge him, but he also took his time to consider if he really did the right thing, letting the boy into his not existent heart.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Snape begins to work with Harry to heal him_

_Harry has to learn that he has no other chance than to allow Snape to help him_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you


	13. a step forward

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ...

And yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Sighing Snape seated himself at the edge of the bed and slowly he approached the hunched over boy noting the way Potter was shaking ever so slightly. Grabbing the boy's chin he forced the startled green eyes to meet his._

_Locking his dark eyes into the green ones he not only forced the boy to slowly acknowledge him, but he also took his time to consider if he really did the right thing, letting the boy into his not existent heart. _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter thirteen**

**A step forward**

The next day, early in the morning hours, Severus Snape was sitting in the armchair he was using since two days now, leaving the couch to Potter so he would be able to just lay down and sleep for an hour if he so wished, if he was tired. Of course, the boy was small enough so he would have been able to curl up on the large armchair without any efforts. And he always curled up into a small ball when sleeping, as if to protect himself. Nevertheless Severus wanted the boy to use the sofa. It was just more comforting, the boy had more space there, and he would have more space there too when he started to work with the boy. And it was time they started working on the boy's physical condition.

Severus sighed, knowing that Potter would not like this. Of course he wouldn't. He would have to touch the boy.

Thinking over the reactions Harry had shown him thus far, he frowned. The boy always had flinched when he touched him, when he talked to him, when he moved too quickly, when he just looked at him. The boy always pulled away from him, watching him warily, and the only emotions he had shown him until now had been fear, terror and pain. He never may have meant to show him this emotions, but Severus had seen them anyway. He was used to read other human's faces, their appearances, their eyes. And Potter's fear and pain was clearly visible behind the mask he always tried to carry over his face. It was clearly visible for _him _at least, and for a moment he wondered how Albus and Minerva had managed to oversee it so easily. They had seen Potter during the welcoming feast, and Albus was the headmaster, and Minerva was the head of Gryffindor house. And hadn't Minerva had the boy during his first transfiguration class?

But then - he too hadn't seen it from the beginning. He too had not noticed the signs, what was quite uncharacteristic for him. He normally saw them during the first evening when he announced his welcoming speech to the first-years in the Slytherin common room. And would it have made any difference when he would have had the boy during a potions class first, he wondered?

Well, he at least _had _seen the signs, even if late. And hopefully not too late. Hopefully not too late for the boy to trust him some day.

Yet - the boy had reached out towards him yesterday, when he had given him the book. The boy had made his own move to take the book, even if he had been careful and slow, as if he had awaited a blow to come at every moment.

As if he ever had resorted to violence against his students.

Well, of course the boy awaited the worst. Always. He had learned nothing else during his short life than that he had to await the worst in order to make the pain more bearable. The physical pain from the beatings as well as the emotional pain of being hurt again and Severus yet again cursed the Dursleys. How could anyone beat a child as terrible as this muggles had done? That terrible that said child would trust no one, that said child refused the helping hand of a teacher, that said child refused the smallest things like even food?

And he had thought Potter to be a spoiled brat!

Severus gave a dark laugh at that thought. It was quite the contrary. The boy was as far from being a spoiled brat as was water from being fire. The boy was afraid of the smallest things like food, a touch, kind words, things that every other child would not even think of being thankful for. Potter was not even just thankful for them, he was afraid of them!

He was startled out of his thoughts when he noticed a movement to his right and lifting his gaze he watched Potter leaving his room, slowly, unsurely, lingering in the doorway as if to ask for permission to leave his room, to step into the living area that he clearly considered as his professor's personal space. Fearing he would be a disturbance and Severus sighed. At least the boy had shown himself instead of hiding in his room. That was an improvement at least and Severus took it for that what it was.

"Come over here, Mr. Potter." He said, beckoning the boy to move closer, keeping his movements slow and low. "Lay at the sofa. It is quite early in the morning. Are you hungry yet?"

The boy shook his head. Of course he did, Severus thought. As if this boy ever would admit by free will if he was hungry. So he just got up and went into the kitchen to get another cup for the tea that was already served at the coffee table in the living room as much as to give the boy a bit space for himself until he had settled himself at the sofa, wondering if this time the boy would use the pillow and the blanket which lay still there from the day before.

He rather doubted that he would.

Well, he was not disappointed when he came back into the living area and the boy sat at the sofa, using neither the pillow nor the blanket and Severus lifted his eyebrow, just pointing at the pillow wordlessly, watching his student until Harry had laid his head onto the soft fabric before he took hold of the blanket and just placed it over the small form.

"Did you sleep well, Mr. Potter?" He asked, his voice casual, low and gentle, and he himself could nearly hear the far away tone in it.

Harry nodded, watching the Potions Master warily when the man placed the cup at the table and poured him some of the tea - fennel, anise and camomile again, from the smell of it - and added honey to the cup. Not that he did not like the tea. And it really helped he noticed. He was able to relax more when drinking this tea, he wasn't as tense then. At least he was more at ease, more comfortable. What maybe was the reason the professor gave him this tea, he thought. No, he really did like the tea. He just wondered what he would have to do to pay it back to the professor, what the man would decide as a punishment for him because he had done nothing since being here besides of sleeping, drinking and eating. And _when_ this punishment would take place.

Of course, Professor Snape had told him that he would not be punished for eating or for drinking. He had said that he _wanted_ him to eat and to drink, and that he wanted him to sleep, to rest. But that surely was nothing else than just a trap. Wasn't it?

It had to. He did not dare to think otherwise. He could not afford to think otherwise, to be lured into a safeness that never could take place, that was not possible, that was not allowed to him. Being wrong would only hurt the more afterwards.

"Drink the tea at least until breakfast, Mr Potter." Severus said, sitting back into the large armchair, watching the boy reaching over towards the table.

Potter clearly understood that he wanted the boy to drink and to eat. That this kind of things were nothing he would get punished for, that this kind of things were the most normal things existent in this world. But from the careful and slow movements when he took the cup, and from the fearful and wary gaze the boy cast at him every few seconds, as if to await a beating for this, he just knew, no matter how much the boy understood, he did not _feel_ this way. He still felt that he had to obey him because he was his head of house and because he wanted his orders to be obeyed, and because he feared a punishment, a beating, if he did not obey. The boy had to learn that this fears were irrational, that he had to obey out of respect, or because it was for his own good, and not out of fear.

"It is time we begin to work on your physical condition, Mr. Potter." Severus began softly. "What means some simple physical exercises each day. Nothing straining, and nothing that will take long. Just a few simple movements each day."

Yet the boy looked like he had just announced the boy would face a fight with the blasted three-headed dog Hagrid had brought into school at the beginning at the term this year.

"You do have nothing to fear, Mr. Potter." He explained. "It will take us not longer than half an hour each day, and with time given, you will be quite comfortable with it. It may be strenuous and tiring to you at the beginning, but each time those exercises will end in a massage with the healing oil to relax you a bit and to avoid muscle soreness. And besides, it will help with regaining muscle mass too. I do not know if this is practiced in the muggle world as well, but it is a passive therapy as we call it."

Severus looked down and saw Potter's green eyes looking at him, begging him to just let him be and he sighed. He had known that addressing this to the boy would not be easy, that the boy would not like this. But seeing the silent plea in those eyes, the clear terror and the barely visible shaking of the boy's head, he only could shake his head by himself.

"Do not even think about it, Mr. Potter." He growled as kindly as he could while growling. "It is not a polite question, it is a polite order. There is no way to avoid this. We have to work on your physical condition in order to strengthen the little mass some might tell muscles, you will have to eat as much as possible to gain weight, and we have to strengthen your arms and your legs. And there is no other way to do so besides of the physical exercises. As I cannot give you a potion that would help with such - due to your underweight, we have to actually work for your strength. Which any way would be the wiser decision. I may be a Potions Master, and I may know potions for nearly everything, but even I know that a potion is not always a solution. Sometimes it is just wiser to resort to physical work for the sake in the long run."

But still, Potter lay there, his fingers curled and knotted into each others, creating a strange knot of fingers over his heavily heaving chest, his teeth clenched and his entire body tense with the dread of what could come.

Severus stepped close, seating himself at the table in front of the boy and slowly he lifted his hand, placed it on Harry's shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"Now, what exactly is so upsetting to you, child?" Severus asked, ignoring the flinch Potter gave away as always when being touched. Of course he knew what was upsetting the boy, but he wanted to know it from Harry himself. Not only to coax the boy into actually telling him what was bothering him, and to - once again learn out of this, to learn that he would not be punished if he told what was bothering him - but to see how many signs he remembered. And dared to use.

But none came, not one single sign, nothing, besides the fact that the boy lowered his gaze and looked away.

Severus sighed and increased the pressure of his hand on the boy's shoulder.

Harry's first impulse was to escape the increasing pressure on his shoulder, to try and get away. He still feared the professor. And he still felt the pain in his back, the cramps in his stomach, and the unease in his limbs, in his muscles, something that reminded him at cramps but different somehow. And he still remembered the pain of the beatings he so often got from his uncle. And the professor was just another adult. Another man. Another one who could hurt him more, who surely _would_ hurt him more.

He was not in as much pain as he was used to since years while being with uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia. But he was in enough pain so that he did not need added pain.

But somewhere deep inside him he remembered being hurt or in pain before and the Dursleys just locking him in his cupboard and letting him deal with it alone. But now - Professor Snape had never hurt him since he was here. He had not even screamed at him. He had not let him alone when he was in pain. He always seemed to be there and to offer some comfort, seemed to actually _want _to help, as strange as it was, and slowly, reluctantly, Harry relaxed somewhat, letting Snape's touch ground him.

Somehow the Potions Master knew that the warm and gentle pressure of his hand was reassuring Potter and he slightly smiled, lowering his head a bit so the curtain of his hair would hide his smile from Potter.

"I know the past days has been very difficult on you." He said, trying to explain further. "But you must try not to worry so. I will not mistreat you. You must try to relax a little, to trust me a bit. During this exercises as well as during the massages I of course will have to touch you. But I promise that I will not hurt you by intent. And I guess you already know this. You will be fine. Not only just now, but in the long run as well. I am not only your teacher, I am your guardian, and I promise you, I will not only keep you safe, I as well will help you wherever I am capable of. You on the other hand, only have to try and trust me, to reach out and take the help that I offer to you."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

At first Severus had thought about using the sofa for the physical exercises. It was large enough after all. But then, at an afterthought, he decided against it. Yes, it was large enough, but it was ways too soft for his liking, and much too high above the ground should Potter panic and fall off the furniture. He needed something that would neither sink in too much nor where the boy could fall off from. So, in the end, he transfigured a pillow into a large gym mat.

What had not been as easy, was getting the boy onto this mat and it had taken him several attempts, but now Potter was sitting at the black mat in the centre of the living area, his legs crossed.

"Now, let us begin, Mr. Potter." Snape said, his voice tired despite the early morning hours. The past days clearly had taken their toll on him too.

Well, nothing else he had expected. It wasn't the first time after all that he had a student in his care that was afraid of his ever movement. Yet, it was the first time he had one not able to voice what exactly the current problem was, nor one whom he had to tell when to eat, when to sleep, and when to move his hands to communicate at all. In other words, he not only had to watch his own ever movements, to control his own voice and his choice of words. He also had to coax Potter into the simplest thinks - like eating, just for example, or like communicating. Thus, yes, he was tired. As tired as he always was when dealing with his abused students.

Harry sat at the mat, unsure what would come next. He didn't know what he had to expect, nor what his teacher expected from him. He did not even know why Professor Snape cared in the first place. And thus - he was unsure.

With the Dursleys, it had been easy after all. They had given him endless lists to complete, he had known what they had wanted from him, and he had known that he on the other hand could expect nothing else than a beating and going into his cupboard without anything to eat. But the professor? He seemed to expect nothing from him aside from obeying the commands he gave at that moment. He seemed to expect nothing from him aside from things he never would be allowed when living with the Dursleys. And he did not know why.

Maybe he wanted him to make a mistake so he could be punished. Maybe he wanted enough evidence for his disobedience so he could tell the Dursleys of his failures and then send him back so uncle Vernon could punish him. But then - maybe he really would not send him back but punish him by himself for eating and for sleeping so much, for not working and for his weakness. And somehow he knew that the man in front of him would be more dangerous than uncle Vernon ever could be.

There were just some things ...

Of course he knew that Professor Snape had told him he would not beat him, nor would he starve him or stuff like that. That he would not lay hands on him. He knew that the professor had promised him he would not punish him for minor things.

But then - how could he be sure that the professor would keep his promise? He was an adult after all. How could he know that the man really would not beat him? That he really would not lay hands on him? That he really would give him something to eat every day? How could he know that the man would not abandon him one day when he learned what a weakling and what a coward he was? What a freak?

And then - what exactly were minor things? Eating five meals a day, what Professor Snape made him do, surely was _not_ a minor thing. And doing no work at all surely was no minor thing too. Uncle Vernon would beat him to death for it.

And then - there were those things. Those things about the professor himself.

Professor Snape was the most rigid person he ever had met, clad in long, black robes, the fabric heavy and stiff, buttoned up to his chin. His face always severe and impassive, his black eyes hard and cold, piercing as if he was looking into his mind, into his very soul. The only movement he seemed to allow in his face was the eyebrow that was lifted whenever he seemed to want to make a sarcastic comment before he changed his mind.

His hands with his long fingers seemed immobile as well, always at his side, or behind his back when he was standing in front of him. And even when he moved to touch him, he seemed to control his hands as well as he did with his face. And even this hands seemed to speak of some severity.

As did his voice. Well, he never seemed to raise his voice, yet - his whisper made him even more shiver with fear. This voice was so much stronger than uncle Vernon's ever could be, even if uncle Vernon had done nothing else than to scream at him. The voice of the professor - even if never raised - made clear that he knew what he wanted and that he would get what he wanted. And that he would get it immediately.

And then there were the rumours he had heard during the first day. The other students, a lot of them at least seemed to fear Professor Snape and he had heard some Gryffindors from second year say that one better got not into the dungeons bat's ways if one would not land themselves in detention, what better was to be avoided. And students from other houses had whispered that no other professor took as many house points as did Professor Snape, and that he caused every first-year to burst into tears, that he did not have a heart.

But that surely could not be, could it? That one had no heart?

But then - one of the Gryffindors - the boy with red hair, from a family with a lot of children, the Weasley boy - had even whispered that he had heard from his twin brothers that the professor was a vampire. Well, that surely had been a joke. Vampires did not exist. But on the other hand, wizards did not exist either. That at least had been what uncle Vernon had told him. And now he had learned that not only wizards _did _exist, but that _he himself _was one too, and now he even attended a school for witchcraft and wizardry. So, maybe the redhead had been right.

Whether it had been the truth or not, what he knew was that the professor was no one to mess around with. He was a severe man and he feared him. He feared his coldness and his impassiveness, his rigid appearance and the control he seemed to have over himself, over his gaze, his voice, his movements. He made him nervous.

Severus observed as the boy in front of him looked around with clear panic in his entire features, trying to make himself as small as possible while edging back a bit on the gym mat on the floor, away from him, the ever present fear clearly visible in his face.

"I know you are scared, Mr. Potter." He said while sitting onto the mat himself, in front of the boy, keeping his movements as slow and as open as possible. It wouldn't do Potter any good if he felt he would hide any movements. When he wanted the boy to trust him, then he had to be more open with him than he normally would allow himself to be. "But I promise, this will be as gentle and as painless as I can make it."

The Potions Master leant forwards and cautiously he laid both his hands on the boy's knees. "It is alright." He muttered soothingly in order to calm Harry down, remained in this position, coaxing the boy to look at him. "I want you to lay down on your back now, Mr. Potter."

The boy in front of him let out a slight whimper of fear. "Please." He signed with his small and unsure movements.

"No, Mr. Potter." Severus stated sternly, glad that he still could be as demanding as he needed to be, even if he had let the boy to come that close to him. "Just relax. I'm not going to hurt you." He did not like the thought that he was scaring Harry, but he needed the boy to realize that he had no other choice than to accept his help." I want you to lay down on your back. Now."

When Harry finally did as he was told - once again only out of fear Severus noticed - the older wizard let out a small sigh of relief. "Yes, just like that. I will now take your left leg. And there is no need to be startled." He leaned over and gently placed his hand down on Harry's shinbone with just enough pressure to make him feel it before he gently picked up the leg. The boy immediately lifted his head so he could see what the older wizard was doing, his fear clearly shown in his face as always and Severus gently stroke his thumb over the soft skin.

"No, lay back, Harry." He whispered. "There is no need to fear what I am doing. I will explain everything to you. There is no need to be afraid. Just lay back down."

When Harry obeyed he waited a few seconds, watching the boy, noticing how he curled his hands into small fists to avoid the trembling of the thin fingers to be seen and he gritted his teeth. Of course he wanted his Slytherins to be strong, to control their feelings, to control themselves. But he as well knew in such a case it was just an impossible task and he rather would have the boy to show his fear than to hide it. How could he learn to deal with his fear when he always was hiding it? He would have to learn to acknowledge it at first as being fear before he could teach the boy how to deal with it.

"Now listen, Harry." He finally explained softly. "I will press your leg towards your chest. I will do so gently and I will not hurt you with the attempt, but I want you to press back against me. Are you all right with that?" When the boy hesitantly nodded he took the boy's leg in a firmer grip with both hands and gently pushed forwards until the knee was bent a bit. "Now start to try and push back against me, try to stretch your leg." He then ordered.

Well, Harry did as he was told, pushed back against him, but the effort was not really satisfying and Severus gritted his teeth in silent frustration when he was able to move the leg towards the boy's chest much too easily.

"Try to push harder, Harry." He tried to encourage Harry to double his efforts, even if he knew that the boy was already trying his best.

Harry on the other hand, somehow feeling the disappointment of his teacher, tried to push harder, to still the movement his leg made into the direction of his chest, but he knew that he would not be able to. Not to mention moving his leg back into Professor Snape's direction and he felt like a small and weak child.

Severus was watching the boy close, ready to stop when the tension would be too much. Potter's fists were pressed into the mat meanwhile, his leg trembled with the exertion and he had his eyes pressed shut. Well, that at least was something. Closing his eyes in front of the person he feared and thus not being able to observe said person's movements, letting down this bit of guard. Even if only out of bodily strain. Well, the boy would learn something out of it. He would learn that nothing happened while he had his eyes closed now.

"Enough." He said, deciding that the little mass of muscles had worked enough for now and slowly he let go of the pressure he had on the boy's leg so he would not be startled of the sudden change. "Let us try the same with the other leg, Mr. Potter." He said while he gently lowered the leg onto the mat and then took the boy's right leg into the same grip. Well, not that this one was any improvement, it was the same. The boy was unable to keep Severus from pushing his knee towards his chest and soon this leg too trembled with the exertion, while Harry even held his breath to somehow double his efforts.

While lowering this leg as well Snape tried to think as quickly as possible without allowing his worries to be shown on his face. Potter's muscles were weaker than he originally had thought and he would have to work a lot with the boy during the next few weeks. Once again he wondered how exactly Potter had been able to stand on those legs, how Potter had been able to make those thin legs to carry his body. But then, there wasn't much weight those legs had to carry in the first place.

"Let us try something different." Severus finally said, slowly creeping closer until he was sitting beside a frightened Potter.

"Hush, child!" He whispered soothingly. "There is still no need to be afraid. I will do nothing that I will not explain beforehand to you. And I will do nothing that will hurt you." He locked his eyes into the boy's ones until the breathing calmed somewhat and then he nodded. "Good. Now take my hand." He said, slowly reaching his hand towards Harry, waiting patiently while his black eyes never left the boy's green ones.

He watched as - after what felt like an eternity - Harry finally lifted his hand, made an attempt to reach out, before he quickly pulled his hand back before touching the professor's offered hand, his eyes startled, at first clearly at the thought of touching the other man, and afterwards at the thought that he had not done as he had been told to.

"Do not be afraid of taking an offered hand, Mr. Potter." Severus said in his calming voice, still holding the boy's eyes, still keeping his hand held towards the boy. "Nor be disappointed in yourself for not accomplishing a task that is new to you. Just try it again."

Harry did try again, ever so slowly that Severus thought he might go mad at every moment, but he kept his hand still and his gaze calm, and finally small fingers touched his own. He easily could have taken action of the next step in taking hold of those small fingers. But he knew he wouldn't gain anything out of it. So he waited, slowly nodding his encouragement and daring the boy to go on and to actually take a hold of his hand.

And finally the boy did. Slowly, unsurely, nearly holding his breath, he curled his small and trembling fingers around the Potions Master's larger ones and for a moment Severus gave a small smile away.

"That's it." He whispered, the dark eyes nearly sparkling with proud. "Now I want you to just pull my hand towards you, Harry."

After a few hesitant moments Harry tried to do as he had told him to, tried to pull his hand towards him, but it was the same as it had been with his legs. He was not able to really fulfil the task.

Well, of course Severus was a grown man. He was a spy, a former Death Eater. He was not a wizard who counted on only magic, knowing that there might once be a situation where magic might not keep him alive. And thus he made a point of training his bodily abilities as well and he knew - from former experiences - that he was superior to a lot of other wizards - and to any child. And to _this _child of all. But the boy's efforts - and he could tell that the boy _made_ an effort - were far from satisfying.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"You did well." Severus whispered encouragingly and the boy seemed to sigh with utter relief.

Harry knew he should not have felt the overwhelming relief at those three small words, but he did, and he hated himself for it.

He knew that he had not done well. He had not managed to push his legs back, or to pull the professor's hand towards him, he had not even managed to keep the position. He knew that he had tried and that he just not had managed it. That he had failed. And thus those words were just not what was the truth. He had not done well.

And besides, he did not deserve those words. He never deserved such. He never would do well. After all, that was what uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia always had told him, what they had been beating into him. Someone like him never could do well, nor could someone like him ever do anything right.

"Sit up." He heard Professor Snape's words from far away and without thinking he did, not stopping the line of thoughts that crossed his mind.

But on the other hand, those words, those words that he had done well, those words spoken from the professor now would mean that he would not be punished for his weakness. Or would he? Maybe not now at least.

But being relieved at them, and when Professor Snape would punish him later for his weakness, for his failure, then it would be just the harder to take the punishment. No, he should always know that it would come, the punishment, the beatings, and then trying to sleep while being hungry.

"I will sit behind you now, Harry." Professor Snape's soft voice cut through his thoughts and for a moment he was barely able to control his fear, his breathing. Now it would come, now he would be punished for his weakness, for his failure. He should have known.

"There is no need to be afraid, child." Severus whispered when he noticed the fear that seemed to rise into panic by his words, while he slowly moved to sit behind the boy, ignoring the flinch, ignoring the beginning panic attack, ignoring how the thin body in front of him tensed up more, but just keeping his stream of words up. "Nothing will happen. I will not hurt you. I only wish to try and see if I can get you to sit straight. I will reach my hand in front of you, onto your collarbone, do not be startled, and do not be afraid. I will not harm you."

Slowly he reached his left hand around the small body and softly placed his hand at the boy's collarbone, feeling the body stiffen more, feeling the boy holding his breath with the fear.

"Do not hold your breath, child." He said. "I will not harm you. I will keep my hand exactly where it is now. Trust me. Breathe."

He waited a few moments until he felt Harry relax slightly under his touch, until the boy continued breathing before he took the next step. "I will place my other hand on your back, just below your shoulder blades. No where else, and nothing else I will do."

And so he did, slowly and gently, placing his right hand at the small back without applying pressure, and again he waited a few seconds until he could feel that the boy had gotten used to the sensation of being touched while being unable to see what exactly Snape was doing.

"I now want you to sit up as straight as you can." Severus whispered from behind. "I will apply a small bit of pressure, just to support your attempt."

From the way Potter was holding his head Snape knew that the boy was carefully listening to the rustling of his robes, trying to sense what exactly he was doing and the Potions Master willed himself to be patient, knowing that the boy would be even more fearful now that he could not see him, could not see his movements, his expression, could not watch him to keep himself safe from whatever he thought might come and ever so gently he increased the touch he had on the boy's collarbone and back, just a bit, just enough to encourage him.

And finally Potter did as he was told, straightened himself and - well, Severus had no better word as, uncurled himself and the Potions Master once again increased the pressure he had at the boy's upper body, until Potter sat straight and rigid in front of him, trembling, and he knew Harry feared this new sensation, being that open, that exposed, that unprotected.

"Try to hold this position as long as possible, Harry." He whispered without moving his hands away, without lessening the pressure. "And do not hold your breath, child. You do have nothing to fear."

Harry felt the pain in his back from being in a position he was not used to, but he did not cry, only signing with trembling hands. "No, please, stop it. Please, it hurts."

Severus slowly eased the pressure and began to just massage the tense muscles while whispering soothing words to distract the boy from the pain. "Hush, child, I know. It will only hurt for now, I promise. With the time given, you will get used to this, and with the time given, your appearance will become more straight, I hope."

Without realising it Harry let out a small sob. He didn't want to do this. He felt so vulnerable and so exposed then. And it hurt being in this position.

The sound of his own small sob startled him out of his thoughts and with a fearful expression he realized what he had done. He had been about to cry in front of Professor Snape. In front of another one and his face went pale when he realized the next sob that escaped him, when he realized he just couldn't stop.

"It is ok, child. Don't hold back." Snape could tell that Potter was in pain, that his muscles were aching, added to the strain of his fear, and that he was holding back, most likely due to not wanting to cry in front of him and he carefully moved to sit in front of the boy so he could see him, and so he - Severus - could see into the boy's eyes.

"You do not need to hide your pain." Snape whispered, his voice stern but gentle. "Neither your physical pain, nor your mental pain. I do not wish you to. Not from me." Severus reached out a hand to touch the boy's chin, to lift his head so he would have to look at him. "Rest assured I will not hold your pain against you later."

Yet, neither did Harry nod or acknowledge that he had understood his words, nor was he calming down at all and soon his breathing came in uneven and much too quick gasps.

"It is ok, child." Taking him into his arms Severus kept Harry close for he knew the boy was on the verge of breaking down. "It is ok. I am here. I will not abandon you for allowing yourself a moment of weakness. Look at me. Focus at my eyes. Look at me!"

This did not help either and the only thing happening was the boy curling back into himself so Severus decided to change tactics, pulling the boy's head against his chest.

"Close your eyes and feel, Harry." Severus commanded calmly, running his hand through the mop of black hair, noticing with a sense of satisfaction that the boy did - closing his eyes - that he concentrated onto feeling, onto listening to his heartbeat, and encouraged by this, Severus ran his hand down Harry's head, and along the slim shoulders and then down the small back, observing his reaction.

The breathing slowly but surely became more even, and more measured. Harry was beginning to calm down and Severus continued to stroke him soothingly until Harry had grown relaxed under his touch.

"Are you all right now?" The Potions Master asked, meeting the boy's gaze and holding it steadily.

Harry was just about to nod his head but then he thought better of it and lowered his head. "I ... I feel ... strange." He signed, not looking at his teacher. "I ... don't know ... what you expect."

Snape sighed deeply. "I suppose if I were to tell you that I just want you to rest, to eat, and to get better, you wouldn't believe me. Would you?"

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Draco Malfoy was sitting in the great hall together with the rest of the Slytherin students, thinking over what he had learned three days earlier, wondering if he should visit his godfather this evening after dinner. Well, if he was true with himself, then he had to admit that he was wondering if he should visit uncle Severus _and _Potter.

He had been angry when the other boy had refused his hand, and thus had refused his friendship during the welcoming feast. He had been really angry. No other one had ever declined his friendship before. No one declined the friendship of a Malfoy. And he had made his mind up then to let Potter pay for it. And he had meant it.

But now, in the new light of what he had learned three days ago, when he had visited his godfather, after uncle Severus had brought Dursley to Hogwarts ...

Maybe he should give it a new try. And maybe he should ask his godfather for help, for an advise how to approach Potter without startling or frightening the other. And when thinking over Potter's reactions now, he was quite sure that it _had _been fear why Potter had not taken his hand, why he had not been speaking to him, and why he had not moved at all while sitting there. Merlin, Potter had not even eaten anything because of his fear.

Watching Dursley complaining about the food he had on his plate - that was nearly the same as every one else had and surely enough so one would not remain hungry - he wondered how two boys, living in the same household, could have been treated so differently. When they provided one boy with food, so why not the other? When they were abusive, so why only beating one boy, and not the other too? Why being negligent with one boy, while the other boy got everything he wanted?

A few days earlier he would have said that it surely was Potter's own fault. That Potter seemed to make his relatives angry at him, that he did not treat his aunt and uncle with respect, whatever. But now? He just knew that this was not the case. He just knew that Potter had done nothing wrong, and that surely no one deserved to be beaten and hungry, and what else.

And if he was right, and if it was true what uncle Severus had told him, and looking at it from this new perspective it was, looking at it from this new perspective he wondered how he could have thought otherwise in the beginning, then he would have a hard job convincing Potter into trusting him.

Not to mention what his father would say to that, he thought, groaning in frustration at that thought.

His father wanted him to hate Potter, he wanted him to make Potter's life at Hogwarts a living hell, and he wanted him to follow into his footsteps, to become a Death Eater. And his father always got what he wanted.

Well, he would not follow his father and become a Death Eater, of that he was sure. Neither would he hurt Potter. After what he had heard from uncle Severus - and from Dursley - he just couldn't. He just did not really know how he would handle the problem of going against his father. He knew, he would have to be very careful and he wondered if he could ask uncle Severus about this too. But then ...

Uncle Severus was a Death Eater. He was as much a follower of the Dark Lord as was his father. And asking him what to do so he would not have to become a Death Eater, well, that surely would be his death sentence. He better did not do such a stupid thing.

But then, on the other hand, he remembered what uncle Severus had said to him, just a few days earlier.

_"You do know, that you - for yourself - always have a chance? Always! Do you, Draco?"_

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"Lay back down, Harry, so I can tend to your muscles. unless you want to have them sore by this evening." Severus whispered and gently pushed the boy back onto the mat, reaching over to grasp the small vial with the healing potion.

He felt the boy going tense and sighing he started massaging the oil into the soft skin, trying to relax the tense body. The bruises were almost faded away by now, but the cuts were still clearly visible. Not open anymore, but angry red and a few still looked inflamed. But at least the warm oil Severus gently worked into the thin limbs was starting to slowly make the muscles and joints less stiff.

Severus's kept his face impassive, but inwardly he smiled with proud. It was the first time the boy did relax under his hands without going into a fit first. It was the first time the boy allowed himself to lessen up and to let go of his ever present wariness. And it was the first time that the boy did not tense up even more when he worked the potion into the small limbs before he finally gave in to relaxing.

That definitely was a start, it was a small step forwards.

Closing the lid of the jar, he whipped his hands clean with a towel. "Remain laying for a moment, Mr. Potter." He said as he retreated a step and placed the towel and the vial onto the sideboard. For a moment he looked at a picture with a young woman and himself that was placed there beside an everlasting candle, and his entire features softened when he picked the frame up from the sideboard, when he lightly stroke his trembling fingers over the smiling face of the young woman that was waving at him before leaning her head onto the shoulder of the younger Severus Snape who wrapped an arm around the woman's shoulder, pulling her closer, smiling by himself.

"Lily ..." He whispered, lost in the memory for a moment before he slowly, nearly reluctantly placed the frame back at the sideboard and turned to watch the boy that was now in his care. Potter. Harry Potter. Lily's son. And for a moment he tried to find all the resemblances he beard to his mother, finding quite a lot without even straining to find them, remembering ...

**Flashback**

_"Ungle Sev?" Severus couldn't hide the smile as two tired and bleary emerald green eyes opened, two small __arms reached towards him and he gathered the still half asleep boy into his arms before he settled himself onto the sofa where the boy had been sleeping until his arrival just a minute ago. He would be glad when Harry finally would be able to articulate his name correctly, but until then, well - he would accept Sev, even when he accepted it with a shudder. At least, Draco couldn't articulate his name yet either, and Draco was quite a few month older than Harry was._

_"Uncle Severus." He corrected nevertheless, his eyebrow raised and his dark eyes watching the boy with a warmth he only felt here, in this house, in the presence of Lily and her child._

_"Ungle Sev'us" The boy in his arms chuckled._

_"He missed you quite a lot, Severus." The woman said, sitting onto the sofa, close to him, laying her hand onto his arm in a friendly gesture and he smiled again. "This morning he even asked James when you would come over. I'm sure you can imagine James' face at his son's question."_

_"Your husband surely was livid. I still wonder why he allows me in your house, even when it is in his absence only." Severus growled what made the child in his arms chuckle again and he cast a questioning gaze at Harry._

_"Feel funny." The boy answered the unspoken question. "Do that 'gain, 'ngle Sev'us."_

_This time it was Severus' time to chuckle. Only this child could think it funny when he growled, __while every other child would have run as fast and as far as possible and he shook his head. "He surely will be a Gryffindor." He mused._

_"Most likely." Lily answered smiling. "Well, James knows that he has no other choice than to accept my friendship to you, Severus. He cannot __forbid me this. I do not question his friendship to Black either."_

_"I know." Severus mused. "But Potter forbade you enough thus far. And I really do not understand why you do not leave him. Not that I ever understood why you married him in the first place."_

_"You know my reasons, Severus." Lily sighed, leaning her head onto his shoulder as she so often did and Severus wasn't able to suppress a shudder. "Albus said it was necessary for the war to finally end."_

_"I know." Severus now looked at her openly, turning towards her while he turned the boy in his arms at the same time so Harry would rest with his back against his chest. "But I love you, Lily. I always have, and I always will."_

_"Love 'ou too." The boy grinned, wriggling in his arms and turning his head so he could see the dark eyes of the Potions Master._

_"And I do love you, brat." Severus growled play__fully at the boy who again chuckled at the growl he felt in the man's chest._

_"I know." Lily said and her voice suddenly was sad and tired. "Severus ..."_

_Severus shifted his gaze from the boy towards the woman he loved since he first met her long years ago. "What is it, Lily?" He asked with clear concern in his own voice now._

_"Severus ..." Lily beg__an again, taking one of his hands into her own. "I know that you love me. And I know that you love Harry, even if he is James' son and not yours. And that is the reason, why ... please, Severus. You know we are in hiding. You know that ... if someday something will happen to James and me ... I know that James named Sirius as Harry's godfather. But please, Severus, will you watch over Harry if something ..."_

_Not releasing the boy he held in his arms he reached over and pulled Lily close, holding her in a tight embrace. "Nothing will happen to you. You are under the fidelius, and you are quite safe, even if the mutt is the __secret keeper."_

_"Severus, please." Lily begged, her voice filled with concern and Severus sighed._

_"If something will happen to you, what not will be, then I shall watch over Harry. And if the mutt will not be available, or not __be ready to take the boy then I shall do so. Are you consent with that?" _

_Lily gave him a relieved smile and nodded. "Yes, I am quite consent with that." She answered._

**End flashback**

"Let's get you up and onto the sofa." Severus insisted when he came back to the mat, watching the boy in front of him close, and his heart nearly skipped a beat at the memory he just experienced. This boy once had spoken. This boy once had laughed. And this boy once had been without fear and without pain. How had it come thus far?

It was his fault. He thought and his stomach twisted painfully. It was his fault that Lily had been killed, that Potter, James Potter had been killed, and that this boy had been placed with the Dursleys. It was his fault. He had been the one who had brought the information about the prophecy to the Dark Lord. His fault, and his fault alone.

He had promised Lily to watch over her son, over Harry, but when he had arrived at the destroyed house, only minutes after the attack that had taken place in Godoric Hollow, only minutes after Lily had been killed, only minutes after he had lost the only woman he ever had loved and he ever would love, when he had arrived, the boy had been gone already. Taken away from him.

How could he have forgotten about his promise afterwards? How could he have trusted Albus when the older wizard had told him that Harry was quite safe with his relatives? How could he have failed the boy and Lily that much to not search for the boy and take him out of the Dursley's household? And most of all, how could he have shifted his hate for James Potter who had trusted the mutt with being the secret keeper of the Potter's onto this boy? How could he have shifted his hate for Sirius Black for betraying Lily onto this boy he once had loved? He once had been proud of when he had done his first steps? When he had said his first words?

He knew it had not happened from one day to the other. He knew it had happened slowly over the years. And he knew that he had been blinded by his hate for Potter and Black, that he had been blinded by pain over loosing Lily, and over loosing the child itself as well. But how could he have shifted all his hate and all his pain towards this child?

And how? How could he himself have had forgotten the love he once had held for this child? How could he have forgotten all the love he had felt when looking at this child? When looking into those bright green eyes? When listening to the awkwardly formulated words? When watching the unsure tiny steps? When listening to the giggles?

Remembering the pain in his chest whenever he had held the small boy with the knowledge that he should not love the boy as much as he did because he was not his son but Potter's, remembering the pain in his chest when he had watched the small boy taking his first steps with the knowledge that he should not be as proud at the boy as he was because he was not his son but Potter's, remembering this pain he slowly lowered himself onto one knee in front of this child that was nearly ten years older now but even more vulnerable as he had been back then.

He locked his dark eyes into the green ones in front of him, searching for what was hidden there, searching if he could find anything there that those eyes had held more than nine years ago. But he found nothing there. Nothing of the joy, nothing of the laugher, and nothing else. Nothing else besides of fear and unsureness. "Let's get you up and onto the sofa." He repeated, his voice shaking slightly with emotions. "I wish you to rest there for a moment before Zilly will serve lunch."

Harry tried to stand-up. Keyword tried. His legs wobbled then buckled under his weight and he fell forward. Strong arms caught him and he was held gently when a mix of a scream of pain and a whimper of fear escaping his lips.

Severus ignored the weak struggle the boy put up to get away from his hands and kept his fingers curled around the thin upper arms, not daring to release the boy yet, not trusting the boy's legs just yet. Well, Harry didn't seem to trust his own legs either, because after a moment he stopped his struggle and the only sign of his fear Severus noticed was the racing heartbeat that he could hear and he shook his head while he guided the boy towards the sofa and gently pushed him down onto the furniture.

"What exactly happened just now, Harry?" He asked.

Well, it was an eligible question. It could have been all. Cramps caused from the exercises, yet - he had worked the healing oil into the small muscles of the boy's legs, his arms and his back and shoulders. It could have been just tiredness, or muscle soreness. The boy could have felt dizzy again, or maybe his weakness just took his toll on him finally.

Of course the boy did not give an answer and Severus sighed.

"I guess your muscles hurt from the exercises earlier and you didn't say anything because you didn't want me to know you were hurting?" Severus asked out of the blue and by the look into the pale and thin face Severus knew that he had been right. Harry looked far too much guilty.

"Why?" He asked, but again he got no answer.

"I do want to know why, child!" He said, his voice low and gentle but severe and demanding at the same time. "It will not be held against you."

The professor touched his shoulder lightly to gain his attention and Harry looked up. "I don't know." He signed hesitantly.

"I guess you do know, Harry." Severus said, his eyes never leaving the small form in front of him. "I rather think, you do not dare to really put it into words, because you do not know what kind of answer I would expect from you. Am I right?"

His eyes still lowered at his hands in his lap the boy nodded and Severus sighed. After a moment he turned and went to the sideboard, stopping for a second, but then, making his mind up, he took the picture frame from the wooden surface and walked back to the boy, to Harry. With a last sad gaze at the picture he seated himself at the coffee table in front of the sofa and held the frame towards the boy, wordlessly.

Harry watched him close, as always, while he seated himself onto the coffee table and reached the picture towards him, not daring at first to take the frame and Severus nodded. "You may take it, Harry." He said and again his voice trembled. "I guess you do not have much memories of your mother."

The boy's eyes grew wide for a moment, but then he shook his head, slowly taking the picture from his hands and Severus smiled, once again feeling the pride that crept into his chest when the boy extended his hand towards him to take the picture.

Harry Potter cast one last wary glance towards Severus Snape before he lowered his eyes onto the picture, getting lost in the smile the woman gave him, getting lost in the smile the younger self of the professor had on his face.

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**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Severus tries to speak with Harry about his fears, about his feelings._

_He is thinking about a past he had feared lost but that had come up with him again._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you


	14. shadows of the past

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ...

And yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_The boy's eyes grew wide for a moment, but then he shook his head, slowly taking the picture from his hands and Severus smiled, once again feeling the pride that crept into his chest when the boy extended his hand towards him to take the picture. _

_Harry Potter cast one last wary glance towards Severus Snape before he lowered his eyes onto the picture, getting lost in the smile the woman gave him, getting lost in the smile the younger self of the professor had on his face. _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter fourteen**

**Shadows of the past**

Severus was sitting in his usual armchair beside the sofa, watching the boy. A boy suffering from the symptoms of severe abuse. A boy that flinched and stepped backwards whenever he moved too quickly and it bothered him to know that Harry so often was having those flashbacks and nightmares about his abominable uncle.

No child should have to endure what Harry had endured. No child should go through so much pain and fear in such a short time and he wondered if he ever would be able to help him through this, to get the boy to trust him, to get the boy to forget and become a child that would laugh and have a normal childhood.

He doubted it if he was honest to himself. Too much, far too much the boy had been forced to suffer, far too much had he been through, and alone the physical aftermath of the mistreatments were severe enough to ensure the boy would never forget what once had been done to him.

Not to mention all the other things. That he never had been embraced, that he never had been assured that he was loved, that he was safe. That he never had been touched aside from violent touches like beatings and rape.

The boy did not even know what love was, what safety was, what an assuring touch meant.

A hand placed on his shoulder should assure the boy, but Harry only feared a hand.

Severus closed his eyes at the thought of Lily and a small Harry, such long years ago, when he thought of what had happened to the child he once had seen laughing and giggling whenever he growled at him, of the boy who had watched him without fear in his green eyes, of the child who had climbed onto his lap to sneak his small arms around his neck and snuggling close to him, breathing in the scent of the plants which he was working with in his potions laboratory, of the many times he had found himself with an armful of Harry when the boy had thrown himself into his arms after his arrival.

Lily would die again, she would die of grief, if she knew what the Dursleys, what her sister and her brother-in-law had done to this child, to her child and Severus' heart hurt again at the thought of all of this.

Well, thinking of the fact what Harry's relatives had done to him, that they never had provided him with assurances or with security, that they never had treated him like a human being, reminded Severus that they still needed to discuss the Dursleys.

He had tried to talk with the boy at mealtimes during the past two days now, but Harry always had looked as if Severus were about to beat him every time he moved his hands to communicate – or to eat.

"Listen to me, please, Harry." He said and the boy reluctantly obeyed the older man, placing the picture onto the wooden surface of the small coffee table and then raised his face so he was watching Severus closely.

Severus took a deep breath before he continued, knowing which kind of reaction he would receive. "You did well during the physical exercises this morning, Harry, and I think it is time to reward you with a praemii. It is a word in Latin and means reward. It simply is a point that is given to you and listed in the Slytherin common room. I will copy this list to the entrance door to my quarters as long as you remain here, so you always can see the list and know where you are."

With a flick of his wand a parchment appeared at the entrance door and Severus walked over to the wooden door, motioning to the boy to follow him and to have a look before he continued, watching the boy who got paler than he had been before.

"Now. There is your name, and your praemii. Those praemii has nothing to do with the house points. They are house intern and only count within the Slytherin house. You can collect them, and when you have enough then you can change them into something you want. The student with the most praemii at the end of the year will win the challenge."

Harry stood beside him, gazing at the parchment for a moment and after reading his name he lowered his head, looking at the floor beneath his feet, his body tense and his teeth pressed together.

"You do not have anything to fear, Harry." Severus continued with his eyebrow raised. "You do not have to fear being punished for something you did well nor for getting a reward. This simply is a system to ensure that my Slytherins behave not only outside the common room but in house intern matters as well. None of the other houses have such a system and I wonder why, because I personally learned that it was successful in the past."

Leading the boy back to the sofa he sighed again. Well, he had to start at some point. So he could bring it up just now as good as later. "Listen to me, child." He hence said, his voice severe but gentle, "The last thing in the world I ever want to do is to cause you any more pain. But we simply have to face some matters of the abuse that you have been put through by the hands of your relatives. But first, do you have any questions you want to ask?"

Harry paled even more and he felt himself beginning to shake, felt nausea wash over him and settling into his stomach. He didn't like to remember those events, the helplessness, the fear, the pain. And he didn't want to ask anything. He was not allowed to ask anything. He was in already deep enough trouble as it was by now. He surely would not add any more trouble by asking questions.

"You do not have to face this alone, Harry." Severus said, only able to guess what exactly the boy feared. "You have never had a guardian who had the desire or the ability to see to your welfare. But just because you have never had it does not mean that you do not deserve it. You have the same right to be protected and cared for as any other child. And being cared for, means to have someone to talk to. Never mind with your voice or with your hands."

"I'm sorry." Harry signed, not knowing which answer exactly his teacher wanted from him.

"There is no need to apologize, Harry." Severus said with a sigh. "You did nothing wrong. You only do not know where to begin, how to begin, what I expect from you. And you simply do not wish to remember. Am I right?"

Harry dared to raise his head for a moment to look at him and then he nodded, lowering his eyes back onto his hands.

"Then just try to tell me what you are thinking, what you are feeling." Severus suggested. "For example when you are laying in bed unable to sleep. And I know that you _do_ avoid sleep."

Harry did not dare to ask how exactly Professor Snape knew that he was laying in bed every night, trying to stay awake as long as possible, and his body stiffened.

"I do not want to dream." He finally signed, knowing that it would do no good to him to not answer. Professor Snape, in the contrary to uncle Vernon did not ask rhetorical questions, he wanted his questions answered.

"Why not, if I may ask?"

"They are …" He didn't know the sign for the word he wanted to use and stopped, searching his mind for something with which he could explain what he meant.

Severus waited. He was sure what the boy meant, what he wanted to say, but he would not suggest the word Harry meant. He wanted him to find a way of himself to explain.

"I'm afraid of them, and I don't want to dream." Harry finally signed, keeping his eyes averted.

"Yes, I can understand that." Severus answered patiently. "Continue."

"And because of this I can't sleep, and I'm just so tired I could …" Again searching for a word the boy finally shrugged his shoulders.

"Yes, I guess I know what you mean." Severus again answered. He had watched the boy secretly, had noticed how he fought sleep more and more with each night. At first he had been too exhausted to keep up a real fight, but by now he really fought against sleep claiming him during the night. And it worried him to no end. The boy still was in no condition for such. He still needed a lot of sleep and rest.

"What exactly happens in your dreams so you would avoid sleeping to evite them?" He finally asked.

"I don't know. They just ..." Harry broke off in frustration, wringing his hands together. "They remind me at …" Again he broke off, this time with a startled and fearful expression on his face and Severus knew they were getting somewhere.

"It reminded you at _what_, Harry?" He asked, his voice quiet but firm watching as the boy in front of him sharply raised his head to meet his eyes.

"Nothing." Harry quickly signed and Severus continued to look at him expectantly.

"At my uncle. And of you, sir." The boy finally answered.

"Explain, please." Severus' voice was still quiet and firm and with his gaze he made sure the boy knew that he demanded an answer, that he would not allow him to flee this conversation.

For a few moments Harry sat motionless there at the sofa, thinking, nervously working his fingers into a knot. Could he dare to say what he really thought? Could he dare to say that the professor with his austerity, with his dark rigidness, with his piercing gaze frightened him? That he frightened him as much as uncle Vernon?

Well, not exactly like uncle Vernon, but - he just feared him.

He finally sighed and unwound his fingers, began to sign his answer, slowly and hesitantly. "It makes me feel like I'm not the same person any more." He finally signed, barely visible. "And I don't know how to handle this. How to handle myself. I don't know what you expect from me. I always knew what my uncle expected from me. He wrote a list each day. But I don't know what you expect. And I don't know how to handle this."

Snape blinked in near shock. Of all the possible responses to his order to explain what he meant, that was the one he absolutely had not expected. He would have expected silence, or crying, maybe a one-word answer, even a violent attack on his person would have been more probable than the answer he had just received from the boy. It was an absolutely logical answer and he wondered why he had not thought of this before. But to get this answer from a first-year, and not to mention from one in Harry's condition. No, he clearly had underestimated the boy. He definitely was more intelligent than he had given him credit for, and he was capable of using language, even if not spoken language, he was able to articulate.

"I begin to see, that there is more to just the physical abuse you endured at the hands of your uncle." Severus said, narrowing his eyes as he watched the boy close, knowing his next reaction. And he was not disappointed.

"I have not been." Harry hesitantly signed.

"You have not been _what_?" Severus wanted to know, his voice still firm, leaving the boy in front of him no chance to dodge or sidestep an answer, watching the boy struggle in search for avoiding the word and he summoned the book of sign language he had brought two days earlier, browsing through the pages until he had found what he was in search for, reaching to book towards the boy in front of him.

"You have not been _what_, Harry?" He continued. "Take the book! There is the word you are searching for, or better the word you are trying to avoid. Use it! Use the word abuse and acknowledge it as that what it is! Use the word!"

The Potions Master gently had thrust the book towards the boy, his face calm and still, but his eyes blazed with the anger he felt. Not anger against Harry, the boy only repeated what had been beaten into him. No, he was angry at those damn muggles.

"No!" The boy signed back, shaking his head and trembling so much that Severus had trouble reading the signs, but he knew what Harry wanted to say. "No, I have not been! He did nothing wrong."

For a moment Severus wanted to shout at the boy in front of him, wanted to argue back, but then he nodded, gritting his teeth and for a few seconds he remained in the armchair – until he had made his mind up. Then he went to the fireplace, knelt in front of the hearth and threw a handful of floo powder into the flames, called out "infirmary". When the flames blazed with a green light he began to speak as if to an invisible person.

"Poppy?" He asked. "Are you there, Poppy?"

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"Severus?" Poppy asked back, coming closer and Severus sighed with relief. "Do you need help?"

"Actually, yes, Poppy." Severus answered. "I need the medical records of the boys from my house who graduated during the past three years – and Potter's. Can you send them over into my office, please?"

There was a pause for a moment and Severus feared that Poppy would refuse. Of course, as he was the head of Slytherin, he knew the medical records from every student within his house, and of course normally Poppy would not withhold them from him. But that were quite an amount of records he demanded from her and he was sure that the medi-witch did not know what to do. But then she nodded.

"Of course, Severus." She answered. "I will send them over in a moment."

"Thank you, Poppy." Severus said, retreating a step from the fire and then leaving his quarters. He knew that the folders would appear on the desk in his office and just a few moments later a stack of folders turned up with a soft 'pop'. Slowly Severus took them and browsed through the reports for a short moment. He took five of them and Harry's report and hurried back into his quarters where he sat back into his armchair, watching the boy for a moment before finally opening the first report from Poppy.

"Well, Mr. Potter." He began, taking a picture out of the folder and placing it at the table in front of the boy. The boy in the picture grinned happily and waved over a slouched shoulder at them. "This is the picture of a student who had graduated last year. Madam Pomfrey made a picture of his back, because of his bent spine she wanted to correct. He was a really nice boy and his marks were the best of his year. His only problem was his bent spine. He often got bad comments from other students about his appearance, so he decided to allow Madam Pomfrey to correct it."

Severus left the picture laying at the table and took another report into his hands, taking out a picture of another boy who was sitting in the infirmary, looking quite pleased but turning his head away from the photographer, and placed it at the table beside the first picture, watching Harry close.

The boy that was sitting in front of him at the sofa was watching the pictures without displaying any emotions and Severus was sure that he did not know where this would lead, that he was unsure and thus tried to hide his insecurity.

"Ah, yes, Marvin." Severus continued, his voice calm and nearly conversational. "He graduated two years ago. He had a birthmark on his left shoulder that often became infected and Madam Pomfrey removed it during his third year at Hogwarts. Thus the picture in his medical report. He too was an acceptable young man."

A third picture accompanied the first two at the table. A boy with a grin as wide as possible on his face waved at them, looking as if Christmas and his birthday had fallen onto this very day even if green and blue pigs were running over his chest, his shoulders and his arms, and one just now was appearing at his forehead. "McAllister." Severus explained. "He was the Quidditch captain during his last year, three years ago. After a game against Gryffindor during which the lions used some unfair tactics, he had had a few hex marks and thus he landed himself in Madam Pomfrey's reports. This student was quite a handful. No wonder he had made it to the post of the Quidditch captain."

The fourth picture was commented with: "This young man here left last year. He landed himself in a stupid duel with another student, regrettably again with a Gryffindor, near the lake during Christmas holidays in the middle of the night and thus – landed himself in the infirmary – and in Madam Pomfrey's reports." The boy in the picture growled at them angrily and he was not waving, just glaring at Harry and the Potions Master.

After this the fifth picture landed itself on the table, accompanying the others. A boy who was yelling angrily and was pointing his wand at them, looking quite furious. "Well, this here was quite funny. Not for Mr. Samuels I guess. After all, running around with a pink chest is not funny at all. But for the Weasley twins it was funny. At least until they got themselves into detention with me after their prank. Then it was funny for me."

And finally Severus took the last folder into his hands. For a moment he hesitated, unsure if he was doing the right thing, not knowing how the boy in front of him would react. But then, well, he never had been one to shy away from things that were necessary. No matter how unpleasant they were. So he took the picture Poppy had taken of Harry's back in this night when they had taken care of all the injuries and placed it at the table in front of Harry, just underneath the five other pictures.

For a moment Severus was not sure if Harry even recognized the boy in the picture that was sleeping at the moment, his breathing evenly and nearly peaceful.

"And this, Mr. Potter, is a picture of a young man that arrived this year, just a few days ago. A first year's student. His name is Harry Potter." He explained, his voice still as if he would have a conversation with an old friend while drinking a cup of tea before he leaned forwards and allowed his voice to show something from the anger he felt. "You claim, that your uncle did nothing to you that were wrong? You claim that you are not abused? You claim that your uncle had been right to beat a child into this? That this is normal?" He asked, pointing at the picture, watching his student close.

"So, why, pray tell, Mr. Potter, is it, that none of the other boys you see here, are as beaten as you are? Do you now recognize what exactly I mean? Do you …"

He broke off when Harry began shaking his head. "I do not look like this." The boy slowly signed, his hands trembling like mad. "That is not me."

"Be assured, Mr. Potter, it is you, and be assured, you _do _look like this." Severus answered, taking the pictures away and banishing them together with the folders into his office. He would bring them back to Poppy later. Just now he had to keep a close eye onto the boy he had in his care. "Do you now see what your uncle did to you?"

"But this cannot be!" The boy signed, the shock clearly visible on his face. Well, Severus had known the boy would not have thought it that bad. They never did.

"It is, Mr. Potter, believe me." He simply said.

"But it never was this bad!"

"Do you wish to look at yourself in a mirror, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked. "I can assure you, you will see every single injury over your body that is visible at the photography. Not open anymore and not as infected as they were, but they are still there."

There was a pause for a while until Severus finally asked just one question. "How long, Harry?"

Again there was a long pause and Severus forced himself to wait, knowing that Harry did not know what to do, but that he knew he had to answer.

And finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the boy slowly and hesitantly moved his hands. "I really cannot remember a time when he didn't. They hated magic, my uncle and my aunt. They thought they could get the freakishness out of me."

Not really shocked Severus stared at the boy. Somehow he had known he would blame himself for what his relatives had done to him, they always did blame themselves, and seeing the shame and the guilt on Harry's face he knew he was right, that he did in fact blame himself for the abuse as well as for the rape. Those damn muggles! What the hell did they do to the boy to make him feel like he deserved such a treatment.

"Are you ashamed of being a wizard, Harry?" Severus asked gently, with nearly a sad undertone in his voice.

Harry just lowered his eyes.

Severus sighed softly. Of course he was. He took Harry's chin and lifted it up gently until Harry looked at him again. "There is no reason at all to be ashamed, do you hear me?" He whispered.

"But they say it's bad, it's abnormal." Harry signed slowly.

"They were wrong." Severus argued softly. "They do not know what they are talking about. It is not bad. It is just something they do not understand so they can not relate to it. They do not know anything else about us. And instead of letting us be, they make us feel bad simply because we are different." Without realizing it, Severus had started to stroke the skin underneath his thumb as he spoke.

"But there always did happen things when I was hungry or when I was afraid. One time uncle … my uncle wanted to beat me with his belt and then the belt was a piece of wool. He really got angry after that. But it was my fault, because I wanted this to happen."

Severus swallowed hard. "Harry, do not attempt to defend them." His voice was rough and he took a deep breath before continuing. "There is no excuse for beating a child like that, none at all. And you had every right to want this to happen, to try and avoid getting beaten with a belt and thus to transfigure it into a piece of wool. A rather creative work you did, I must say. But the fact remains, you had every right to defend yourself."

"They just were afraid of me, because I made such things happen that were not normal."

"I do not care how frightened they were!"

Watching the boy cringe at his angry tone Severus sighed. "Look at me." He commanded his voice gentle. Harry turned to meet his eyes again. "I am not going to hurt you Harry. Your relatives are the ones I am angry at, not you. What they did to you is unforgivable. They had no right to do such things and they _will _pay for it."

The boy this time did not answer, but his eyes spoke a story of their own and the Potions Master easily could see the doubt in them, the self loath and the fear.

Severus sighed and when he spoke again, his voice was heavy and sad. "You really think so poorly of yourself?"

"I'm sorry." The boy – yet again – signed.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus watched his student with his left eyebrow raised while he avoided a heavy sigh of frustration that only would frighten the child further. They were through this before, and whenever a sigh escaped Severus during mealtime the boy noticed and draw away, the normally visible fear in his eyes rising to near panic. So Severus forced himself to avoid the sigh and instead of this slightly lifted his eyebrow.

"Are you well, Harry?" He asked in a low and calm tone of voice.

The eleven year old in front of him slowly nodded his head once and again Severus had to suppress a sigh.

"You did not eat anything yet, Harry." Severus said, his voice still low and calm. Of course the child had not eaten. He rarely ate anything. The most time he just sat there at the table, not daring to touch the food in front of him, unless Severus ordered him to eat. The boy still was hardly more than skin and bones, much too skinny and bony. Fragile, pale and far too weak for the Potions Master's liking and often he feared the boy would collapse at every moment.

"Eat!" Severus ordered, still in a low and calm voice, but with a definitely demanding tone in it. He soon had learned that he sometimes had no other choice than to try and force the mistreated children to do as he wished to prevent them from getting further ill - as gently as possible, but still it was force, and – against common believes – the Potions Master did not really like it.

The boy flinched at his demanding tone, his eyes still lowered at the table in front of him, and Severus easily noticed how the small hands cramped into little fists, how the small body before him tensed, prepared to gain a blow from him and this time he really sighed, for it just hurt. He never would beat a child, and surely not one that did not act out of stubbornness, but only out of his fear.

"I wish you to eat, child." Severus commanded and finally the boy took hold of his fork, with trembling fingers, and began to pick at his carrots and the potatoes, shoving them from one side of the plate to the other without really eating them.

"Harry, please!" Severus said, still avoiding the frustration he felt to be audible in his voice.

They were through this before as well. And not just once but every mealtime for truth to be told. Since three days now, during every mealtime they had the very same argument. And during every mealtime, it was a battle to get the boy to eat anything. A battle that Severus rarely lost. But with every battle he _did_ lose, he knew, the boy would pay for it, for the Potions Master could easily notice the weakness and the tiredness from lack of food and sleep.

"You did not eat much yesterday, Harry. Nor did you do so the day before yesterday. You hardly ate anything at all since you are here, child, and that will do no good to you." Severus began his helpless struggle, persuading the boy to eat without frightening him, fixing the child with his dark eyes.

"Look at me, Harry!" He commanded, and the boy really raised his head, his green eyes searching those of Severus' black ones. That was more than normally happened during meals and Severus nearly sighed in relief.

"Listen to me, child." He continued, holding with his piercing gaze the eyes of the slightly trembling child in front of him. "You are far too skinny and bony for a child your age. Because you do not eat as you should. You need to eat, Harry. You need to gain strength for your body, or you never will heal well. You are starving yourself, and that I do not wish to see, that I will not allow."

The boy kept his eyes for a few moments more at the dark and soft ones that spoke of understanding yet severity as well, but then, gritting his teeth, he again lowered his gaze at the table in front of him.

No. The professor would not understand. None of them would understand. He just could not eat, for he knew he did not have the strength anymore to work for the food – what only meant punishment. And besides of that, he knew the pain in his stomach as well as the nausea that he always felt would just increase would he eat anything. Every time he actually _did_ eat something it was the same. Even if he would never admit it to the professor. Professor Snape already knew that he was too weak and he did not intend him to notice even more weakness.

He also knew that his teacher demanded an answer from him, but there was nothing he actually could have said to him, he was not even sure if he would be able to if he could have, so he just lowered his gaze, gritting his teeth to prevent himself from screaming out with frustration and tried to hide his trembling.

"Listen to me, Harry." Severus continued with a stern voice this time, his left eyebrow lifted to its heights. "I wish you to eat, and you will not be excused from this table before you did not fulfil my request."

A moment later however he nearly regretted his stern tone and his words as he noticed the ever present fear in the boy's eyes increased to near panic, but he knew he had to get some food into the child. He doubted that the boy would be able to carry on like this much further without dying.

And he remembered the circumstances under which they had found out about the abuse of the child, five days ago now, when he had been so close to death.

"Eat, now!" Severus commanded, gritting his teeth to keep himself from giving in to the boy and then gritting his teeth as the boy violently flinched at his sharp tone.

"Stop looking at me like that! I am not going to hurt you!" Snape growled, his frustration finally getting the better of him.

Harry nodded then drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry." He signed and Severus looked at him with a mixture of concern, sorrow, and annoyance. Why did the child feel the need to apologize every five minutes?

"I promise I won't flinch again. I … I don't know why I always do it. I just can't stop myself from doing it. I just … I'm sorry "

"Do not make promises which you can not keep." Severus responded dryly. "I just do not want you to fear me, for there is no need to fear me. You do that much too often for my liking." Then he shook his head. "Harry, when will you learn to trust me?"

"How do I know how to trust?" The boy asked, looking a little lost, just before he noticed _what_ he had just asked and went pale.

Severus remained silent for a moment, merely eying Harry, then he pushed himself to his feet. He moved in front of Harry's chair, and Harry, not knowing what to expect, flinched and moved back as far into his chair as he could.

Severus Snape, now a spy for the Light, once a Death Eater and never a man you wished to greatly irritate for fear of your life or other vital parts of your anatomy, moved closer and gathered the boy into his arms, feeling the boy getting absolutely rigid in his arms and ready to bolt if he had not been holding him.

"I'm sorry … I'm sorry …" Harry repeated again and again, his whole body trembling like a leaf in the wind in Severus' arms and the Potions Master felt as if he had just been shot by the cruciatus curse.

"For the love of Merlin, what exactly did they do to you, child?" Severus whispered, wrapping his arms protectively around Harry, ignoring the violent flinch from the boy. "I promise that I will never hurt you or mistreat you in any way. I do not know if you can believe me one day, but I do want you to know that I would not have struck you or denied you food."

Harry clung in absolute desperation to the older wizard's robes, buried his face against Severus' shoulder as the professor held him close, one hand gently curling around the back of the boy's neck and the other running up and down the small spine.

"By all means then, child, do not fight it." He massaged Harry's back and continued to speak in that same soft tone. "It is alright to fall apart sometimes. It is alright to cry, Harry, there is no shame in it."

Severus sighed and continued to run his hand over the boy's back absently. "That's it ... just let it out ..." He kept muttering the same things over and over again, his body relaxing to the feeling of holding the boy, allowing his mind to wander back in time when he had held the same boy, many years ago and he began to rock him slightly, running his fingers through the boy's dark strands of hair in order to comfort him.

Severus sat back a little so that he was once more looking straight into Harry's eyes. "I know that you do not know how to trust." He said. "But you can learn it. You are not alone any longer. I know what that kind of fear can do to you. But I want you to come to me whenever you feel this kind of fear, whenever you have a problem or feel upset about something, and I will do everything I can to help. Alright? Will you do that? I do mean it, child. I want to help."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus really had managed to get something to eat into the boy, over and over again assuring him that he neither would have to work for the food nor that he would be punished for eating. Harry had not eaten as much as he wanted him to eat, but the boy had looked absolutely petrified and close to tears and he had kept looking up at him every time he took a bite. He had seemed to be absolutely certain he would hit him and he had broken down sobbing again when he had asked him to have desert, shaking his head like there was no other movement possible.

It had not even been a real desert, for the boy would not have been able to stomach many sweets yet. It had been nothing more than bits of fruits, bananas and apples with honey, nothing more. But for Harry it had meant something extra, something special and that was forbidden to him. And Severus had absolutely no clue to how he could be able to get this kind of thinking out of the boy.

Yet – he had eaten and that was the most important thing just now. They would work on this. Slowly, but they would work on it.

Harry, meanwhile back at the sofa, turned around and stared at his face, scanning it for signs of deception, or anger, and Severus allowed his face to be studied without any sign that it irritated him or that it angered him.

"Allow me entrance, Harry, please." He softly begged the boy in front of him. "I wish to show you something. Trust me. I will not look at your memories, I promise it. I only wish to show you something."

Harry was unsure. His teacher never had lied to him. But then, he was an adult. Of course, he feared other children as well as adults. Dudley had had his fun with him too. But he soon had learned that a beating from uncle Vernon had hurt much more than one from Dudley. And besides of this, well, Dudley mainly had kept himself to aunt Petunia, gaining her attention, or sitting in front of the TV, or sitting in the kitchen to eat something. No, uncle Vernon had been worse than Dudley. Even aunt Petunia had been worse than Dudley.

And Professor Snape was just another adult, his new guardian.

But then – he really had never lied to him. Should he dare to allow him into his mind? He had asked after all. He had not ordered him to. He even had said please.

Slowly he nodded and when he felt a soft prodding on his mind he hesitantly lowered the wall he had build around himself and allowed his teacher entrance to his mind, still unsure, still fearing what would happen, still fearing if Professor Snape would keep his promise.

_Suddenly he stood in the middle of a strange room and curiously he looked around. The tapestry was a bright creamy __colour, as were the furniture. A large sofa, two armchairs and a table. A bookshelf at one wall and a sideboard at another one. An open door led to yet another room and he turned to look what was beyond, but a soft noise distracted him and he averted his gaze into the direction the soft laugher came from._

_A black haired boy, maybe __a year old, or maybe one and a half years old, he really had no idea, was laying on his stomach at the floor in front of a softly crackling fireplace, a soft rug beneath him and a book with coloured pictures in front of him, moving pictures of dragons and knights. He was wiggling his legs in the air and giggling at something he had seen in the book._

_"Good evening, Harry." Came the soft and deep voice of a man from behind him where the door was and for a moment he turned and gazed at the door, wondering who would know his name, and why this one would call him by his given name. No one did besides of Professor Snape – sometimes at least. But this voice had sounded too young for being …_

_Behind him stood the professor, clad in his usual black robes and as rigid as always, but younger. He was not looking at him but at the boy laying in front of the fireplace and gazing back at the boy he hitched a breath. The boy had lifted his head when hearing the professor, his face had lit up, and Harry recognized green eyes that were sparkling with joy in a face that was his and at once the boy got to his feet, running with tiny steps towards the Potions Master and threw himself at the man who lifted him into his arms._

_"Ungle Sev'us!" The boy, the other Harry, laughed while leaning his head against the professor's shoulder._

_"What did you read, young man?" The professor asked, while he walked towards the rug the boy had been laying on, lowering himself onto the ground and looking at the book, settling the other Harry onto his lap._

_Carefully Harry took a step closer, not sure if he was allowed to, not sure what this was, not sure if he should disturb them. Better not risking anything, he thought and kept a safe distance, just stepping around them so he could watch their faces._

_"Mum say you come for dinner." The other Harry said, looking up into the black eyes of Professor Snape._

_"Your mother had been quite right, Harry. I shall stay for dinner tonight." The professor answered a smile on his face that actually reached his eyes and Harry thought he looked fine while smiling like this._

_"You bring me to bed then, ungle Sev'us? Tell a story?" The other Harry asked, his eyes fixed hopefully at Professor Snape, reaching a small hand towards the older wizard's face and running his fingers through the black hair._

_"Maybe, Harry." Professor Snape answered chuckling and Harry held his breath. Professor Snape? Chuckling? He always seemed so severe and stern. "If you behave during dinner I shall consider telling you a story."_

_What was the meaning of this? Harry knew this was a memory of Professor Snape. And he knew that if this was a memory, then it really had happened. But the boy in this memory was he, Harry. And it was not possible that Professor Snape had known him when he had been a small boy. Or would it have been possible? The Professor had known his mother after all._

_And the other Harry had said 'mum' … and Professor Snape had said 'your mother' … _

_It just meant, that this had been his home before his parents had died, before he had been brought to uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia, that he __had been with his mother, and that Professor Snape had been there too somehow. And he had promised him a story. He was holding him as if he liked him, in a way that clearly showed he did this quite often, that he was comfortable with the situation. And he – Harry - the other Harry – he had called him 'uncle Severus'._

_"Dinner is served, Severus." __A young woman, Harry recognized from the picture Professor Snape had shown him earlier as his mother, said, kneeling beside them in the front of the fireplace. "Harry dear, would you go to the dinning room now? Severus and I will come in a few minutes, ok?"_

_"Ok, mum." The boy said, grinning like mad at the prospect of dinner, running with his tiny steps out of the room._

_Harry considered for a moment to follow the boy, but then he decided against it and to watch the adults instead, knowing that the memory of Professor Snape would be about the witch and the wizard in front of the fireplace, and he continued to watch them while he fought the tears that threatened to escape him._

_The woman, his mother, tuned to the professor, watching him with warm eyes. "Are you sure that this is what you want, Severus? Are you sure that it is right what we are about do?" She asked._

_"Are you finished packing, Lily?" The professor just asked and his mother nodded._

_"Yes, I am." She answered. "But are you sure that we should do this? That it is right to do this?"_

"_Do you want to do this, Lily?" Professor Snape's dark eyes seemed to pierce through his mother and she nodded, even if she had a nearly desperate look on her face._

_"Of course I want this, Severus." She whispered. "I wanted this from the very first beginning. But Albus … and James …"_

_"Albus had no right to force you into this, Lily." Professor Snape growled. "And Potter - he lost the right to be your husband the moment he laid his hands on you in a violent way. If you want to do this, then I will come back tonight, and I will take you and Harry out of this house and to Snape Manor."_

_Lily, his mother, leaned against the professor's chest, leaning her head at his shoulder. "I do want this, Severus." She whispered. "And you do not know what this means to me. You do not know how much I love you, Severus."_

_"I do love you too, Lily." Professor Snape whispered while he reached his long fingers towards his mother's face, running his fingertips lightly over her cheek. "And I do love Harry. I would be __honoured to give both of you the family you always wished to have."_

_Tears were running down Harry's face, yet – he did not notice them and after another moment, watching Professor Snape and his mother finally getting up and leaving the room, entering the dinning room, watching the other Harry climbing onto the Potions Master's lap after the older wizard had seated himself at the table, leaning his back against the professor's chest, Harry turned and looked away, searching for an exit, searching for a way to get away from this scene._

_He could not deal with this. This was not right. This was not allowed to him. This never would happen to him. Such could not happen to him. No one could ever love him. No one could ever handle him like this. And looking at this just hurt the more as he knew he could never have it. It just hurt and he could not handle this. He just couldn't._

Severus watched the scene himself and he sighed in sadness as he realized what he had lost those years ago when the Dark Lord had killed Lily and James. Yes, he had loved this boy as much as he had loved Lily. And now he realized what he had lost this day. Lily and Harry. He had lost them that very day.

He still could remember the fear in his chest. Fear of the future, fear of what time would bring, fear at the thought of him caring for a family, fear of the question if he would be able to care for them as they deserved. He still could remember the tightness in his chest when he had questioned himself if Harry would accept him as a father, the feeling when he tried to assure himself that Potter never had been a father to the boy, that he never had shown interest in Harry at all, that the boy would be fine with him.

He had left after dinner, promising he would be back later to fetch Lily and her son. But when he got back later, the house had been destroyed and Lily had been dead, as had been Potter. And he had been unable to find Harry.

He had lost them that day. And he had lost his heart that day, had lost his ability to love anyone. He had damned himself to coldness and to darkness that day, promising to himself that he never ever would allow himself to love anyone anymore, that he would allow nothing to ever hurt him again.

But maybe – maybe he could …

Noticing Harry's uneasy he pulled out of the boy's mind, retreating and finally watching him, noticing the tears that were running down the boy's face, and immediately he knew that it had been too much for him, that he preferred to rather retreat instead of watching the scene any longer, that he could not stand the caring, the understanding, and the love displayed there while he thought that he himself could never have such.

Slowly he extended his hand and for a moment he considered to wipe the tears away but then he stilled his movement and just held his hand towards the boy, his palm turned upwards.

Well, normally he was no one who allowed others to touch him. Ever! He was no teddy bear! But now he extended his hand towards the boy in front of him, and if just to see what Harry would do. This morning, during the exercises he had taken his hand after he had ordered him to. What would the boy do now? When not being ordered to?

With a great deal of caution, Harry lifted his head and looked at his teacher's open palm. He knew it was an invitation of some sort, but Harry was not certain how far he was allowed to go before Professor Snape would get angry and for a few long seconds, he simply watched that offered hand, looking at the networks of lines running across the palm, learning its shape and size, memorizing the length of the fingers, and noticing how still and how safe this hand looked like.

Severus waited patiently, watching Harry openly while the boy studied his offered hand, until he finally, as slowly as he had done this morning, reached his hand towards him, before hesitating and halting in his movement, still looking at that hand, not knowing what he was supposed to do now and the Potions Master forced himself to remain patient.

When Harry finally touched his hand, with trembling fingers, Severus Snape felt something like warmth and joy spreading through his body and somehow he knew he could claim back what he had lost those years ago. He already _had_ it back. He had the boy back, and he smiled.

Feeling the desperate attempt from the boy to calm himself but failing miserably, feeling the shaking of the fingers holding his hand increase, Severus wrapped his own fingers around those of the smaller hand, stilling their trembling.

He didn't say anything, and he didn't move, he just waited, his dark eyes locked into the green ones of the boy, daring him to get comfortable with the situation.

Harry too did not move, just watched the professor, his firm eyes, his calm face, and the thought occurred to him that he really seemed to care for him. It was a harsh looking face he looked at, but the person itself cared. He cared about – _him_.

Slowly and warily he draw his hand out of the older wizard's one and lifted it towards this harsh looking face until he warily touched some of the black strands of hair, just as the other Harry had done within the memory.

Severus slightly lowered his head as the small, trembling hand explored the texture of his hair – cautiously, uncertain, and ready to be snatched back at the slightest movement from the Potions Master, before the shaking fingers reached his face and touched the skin of his cheek.

Severus could see the expression on the boy's face that reminded him at a mixture of pure panic and longing and slowly he placed his own hand on top of the smaller one. He curled his fingers around Harry's when the boy was startled at the unexpected touch and tried to snatch his hand back, holding the boy's hand still, keeping it in place.

"Do not be afraid of taking an offered hand, Harry." He whispered, repeating the words he had uttered this morning. "Nor be afraid of your own daring to touch someone who allowed you doing so. You may carry on on your own time, and I will be patient and wait to see how far we can get. There will be no haste."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Later, as Harry walked into his room, Severus knew what a long process this was going to be, but he had not been lying when he told Harry he could be patient. He would be. And when he went to bed that evening he felt a bit more at ease than he had been feeling until now. The boy was taking very small steps but steps at that.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_When it comes to fears, then not only Harry and Severus are to be mentioned._

_There are others within the castle __that has their fears and their thoughts of their own._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you


	15. shadows of the present

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ...

And yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

With this note here, I might piss off some people – nevertheless I will not leave it out. This note belongs to my story, and if it does annoy the hell out of some people - as it is so eloquently put - then note, you might not read it. You might not even read this story at all. There is a button to close the tab, you know. You just have to use your mouse or your touchpad to close it. Or strg+W.

However ... I of course _do_ know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well _do_ know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. Even murder. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything _is_ possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question and scrutinize every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Later, as Harry walked into his room, Severus knew what a long process this was going to be but he had not been lying when he told Harry he could be patient. He would be. And when he went to bed that evening he felt a bit more at ease than he had been feeling until now. The boy was taking very small steps but steps at that. _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter fifteen**

**Shadows of the present**

"Where do you think he is?" Hermione asked in a whispered voice, leaning over the table, closer to Ron.

"What do you care, Hermione?" The red haired boy asked back. "He's a Slytherin."

The girl with the bushy brown hair rolled her eyes. "He is a student of Hogwarts, Ron. Did you not listen to Professor McGonagall?"

"What of the many things she said do you mean?"

Again Hermione rolled her eyes. "I mean the part concerning the house rivalries, Ronald Weasley." She answered. "You know, she is right. Is it really important in which house you are?"

"Hermione!" Ron said and his tone was upset. "You know that the most dark wizards and followers of You-Know-Who have been in Slytherin. It's a dark house."

"It is not, Ron!" Hermione said. "A house cannot be dark. The people are the ones that make a house dark, because the people are dark. Yet – not every one is dark just because he – or she – is in Slytherin. And Harry Potter has once defied You-Know-Who. How shall he be supposed to be dark? Just give him a chance. Really, Ron!"

"You know, Hermione, he really surprised every one when that hat had shouted out Slytherin!" Ron shook his head.

"What does not mean that he is a dark wizard because of this. The hat does not rely to someone using the dark arts – or being dark - but to the ability one is showing, to the spirit."

"If you think so. But you will mind my words, Hermione."

Sighing heavily and once again rolling her eyes she again watched the Slytherin table. "Did you hear something about the parcel Malfoy got?" She asked and Ron shook his head. He nearly had forgotten about the parcel. Well – he had been half asleep when she had asked him about it a few nights before.

"But what is so important about the parcel? Malfoy is not the first student who got a parcel after the normally arrival of the owls. And he surely will not be the last one."

"I am not really disturbed by the time he got his owl rather than by the glee in his face when he got it." Hermione answered, her eyes still thoughtfully cast at the Slytherin table. "It nearly was evil."

"Well, Hermione, not every one who is grinning when getting a parcel is evil." Ron shot back, getting her at her own earlier words.

"That is not the same, Ron!" She answered. "Every one knows that the Malfoys are evil. And I am sure you have to admit that he is up to something just by watching his face."

"_That_ – was really clever, Hermione!" Ron laughed. "As if a Malfoy ever would not be up to something!"

"What is Malfoy up to?" George asked as he crossed Ron and Hermione.

"Maybe he is up to hexing our little brother into a pig …" Fred began to answer before Ron could say anything.

"... so he looks like he eats." George finished the answer his twin brother had begun.

"No! He got a parcel Tuesday night during dinner and Hermione said he is up to something because the glee she saw in his face when he got the parcel."

"Clever girl, Hermione." George laughed. "A Malfoy is always up to something."

"And I think, if Hermione is worried, then we should have an eye on him." Fred said.

"And I guess we have the right thing ..." George began.

"... what you need to find anything out." Fred finished.

Both twins had a cheerful expression on their faces and Hermione shook her head, rolling her eyes. Sometimes she wondered who was worse, Ron, or the twins.

"Have you seen Potter?" George asked and Hermione shook her head as did Ron.

"We haven't seen him either since Tuesday." Fred said.

"He is really strange." George had a thoughtful look in his face.

"Yes, being in Slytherin when he is supposed to be in Gryffindor." Ron piped up.

"That's not what I meant, Ron! Who cares in what house he is?" George shook his head and smacked Ron at his head.

"I rather meant – did anyone of you ever see him eat? Me not!" Fred nodded.

"Neither did I ever hear him talk. I wonder if he can talk at all."

"In transfiguration he did not use the verbal spell to transfigure the fir needle." Hermione meant thoughtfully. "He tried to do it with just the flick of his wand."

"Speechless magic ... no first year could do that!" George said, watching Hermione.

"Besides of our good Hermione here, I guess." Fred gave contradiction.

"But when he is not able to speak, and cannot do speechless magic, then he cannot attend Hogwarts." Hermione's eyes went wide.

"Maybe that's the reason he's missed since Tuesday. They chucked him out." Ron said, a thoughtful expression on his face that did not really fit him.

"Don't worry, little brother." George laughed, knowing well that Ron did not like this term. "They will find a way to avoid this."

"They better _should_ chuck him out!" He murmured. "Potter being in Slytherin! Maybe he is the next dark wizard. I mean, he defeated You- Know-Who, ok, but maybe just so he could become the next one."

"Really, Ron!" Hermione protested. "Harry Potter had been a year old when he defeated You-Know-Who. How was he supposed to do so out of jealousy then?"

"You never know, Hermione." Ron said. "I at least will be careful around him."

"Do you know something about this new guy in Slytherin?" Fred then asked.

"The one who is here since Thursday?" Hermione asked, again casting a glance at the Slytherin table.

"Exactly." George answered. "They say Snape brought him and that he is a muggle ..."

"... what is the reason why he was not sorted." Fred continued.

"No idea." Ron murmured, shoveling more food into his mouth while Hermione just shook her head. No, she had no idea. She had not even known that he had been a muggle. But a muggle in Slytherin? That was unheard of. A muggle at Hogwarts in the first place was unheard of. Well, just another problem that needed to be solved. She would figure it out.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Draco still was not sure what to do, remembering the meeting in the Slytherin office, the one behind the classroom, a few hours ago. Not uncle Severus' office but the general office, the one for the students to use. He had feared this meeting. He had been sure that this meeting was somehow akin to the meetings his father attended with the other Death Eaters. That they would be trained somehow to become the next generation of Death Eaters.

But he had been – positively – surprised.

The room they had met in, the office behind the potions classroom, had been nothing like an office at all. It rather was a smaller copy of the Slytherin common room, with a coffee table and two large sofas and a few armchairs surrounding the table and he had seated himself into one of the armchairs trying to not show his apprehension on his face.

**Flashback**

_When everyone was seated the door opened. Not as forceful like when Severus had entered the potions classroom during lessons on Thursday, but without hesitation, and Severus entered the room, watching them for a few seconds while he silently closed the door behind him._

_"You may find cups and plates in the sideboard over there." Severus __quietly said. "Please get them, Draco, Theodore, and place them on the table."_

_For a moment Draco was about to protest, that he was not a house elf, but then he nodded and got up, went towards the sideboard and opened the door, reaching for eleven plates and brought them back to the table while Theodore got the cups._

_Severus meanwhile had ordered two pots of tea and a large plate filled with biscuits from the kitchens and soon everyone had a cup of tea and a plate with biscuits and was settled._

_"How was your first week here at Hogwarts?" Severus then asked and Draco couldn't help but watching his godfather thoughtful__ly. It had been a quite turbulent week. At least for him. At first he had met the great hero of the wizarding world, Harry Potter. Then his father had sent him poison to use on said student. He'd had classes, study groups and the appointment with uncle Severus. Potter had disappeared, as had the professor and then Severus had brought Dursley and he had found out about Potter's uncle. All in all, not an easy week._

_"It was quite funny, sir." Pansy Parkinson piped up and Severus looked at her questioningly._

_"Well," she explained, "never before could I do so much magic. It was quite a lot we learned this week, sir."_

_"So you consider learning as fun, Miss Parkinson?" Severus asked, his eyebrow raised._

_"Of course, Professor." She said. "We are still children, after all. And mum always said that children like to learn new things. And we learn new things here."_

_Severus raised his eyebrow and Draco had to suppress a laugh. So Pansy repeated what her mother had told her. No brain of her own, he thought. He wondered what his godfather's answer to that would be._

_"Your mother definitely was correct, Miss Parkinson__." Severus said, fixing her with his dark eyes. "Nevertheless, as much as I am pleased to see that you seem to be interested in learning, I do not wish to know what your mother told you. I rather would prefer to know what your own opinion is. That is, what this meeting is for. Your parents might be a very important point in your life and you definitely should respect your elders and what they teach you. But you are old enough to make your own decisions now. You are beginning to live a life of your own. You are not at home here and you are responsible for your own actions and for your own beliefs."_

_"I couldn't sleep well." Tracey Davis said in a low voice after a few seconds of silence._

_"May I ask for the reason to this, Miss Davis?" Severus asked, his voice friendly. _

_"I don't know, sir." Tracey said. "I dreamed from home and my mother."_

_"Understandable." Severus answered, watching her closely. "You are away from your home for the first time. It is quite normal that you miss your familiar surroundings and your parents. But pray tell, Miss Davis, why did you not ask for a dreamless sleep potion? That would have solved your problems instead of going to your lessons while not being rested properly."_

_"I don't know. I didn't think of this, sir." Tracey looked rather guilty at this._

_"Next time when anyone of you is not able to sleep, or suffer from other troubles, then I want you to address me. That is the opportunity of having a Potions Master as your head of house. Whatever ails you, you may come to me and I will supply you with aid. You as well may come to just talk to me next time, Miss Davis, and I am sure we will be able to find a solution for your homesickness in the first place. Did you write to your parents?"_

_"Not yet, sir."_

_"Then do so this afternoon, Miss Davis. This might help as well. It might be a relief for your parents too, as I am sure they do miss you as well as you miss them."_

_"Yes sir, I will do so just after the meeting."_

_"Good, see that you do, Miss Davis." Severus nodded._

_"I'm quite glad that I'm not at home for a while." Theodore Nott murmured under his breath. Severus heard him nevertheless._

_"Why is t__hat so, Mr. Nott?"_

_"Well." Theodore slowly said and Draco easily could sense that he was thinking of an answer that was not offending the other children of Death Eaters. At a glance towards his godfather, his __sceptical raised eyebrow, he could see that Severus noticed the same. "I never was away from home and it is just a change."_

_"I see." Severus said. "You do know that you can address me with everything, Mr. Nott? Never mind what it is?"_

_"Yes, sir." Was the only answer, but Draco noticed that Severus – even if he for now gave way and allowed him to drop the __subject – watched Theodore for a bit longer, until Blaze Zabini spoke next. He knew that his godfather would have a word with Theodore soon in private. That he would address the subject to him and that he would demand answers then._

_"It was a strange week." Blaize said. "The castle is a bit big, with a lot of corridors, even down here in the dungeons. And a few times I nearly got lost. And then all the classes and homework and study groups. I am glad that this week is over and it's weekend."_

_"Quite understandable." Severus said. "You have been home schooled, Mr. Zabini, I heard?"_

_"Yes, sir." Blaze answered. "There is no wizarding school near where we live. So father decided to get a teacher to school me at home."_

_"Then it is no wonder, Mr. Zabini, that you have to get used to attending a school like Hogwarts." Severus explained. "And not only for a few hours a day, but for a few month during the year. Not to mention the fact that I guess you do not only have to get used to the large place, but to the amount of people as well?"_

_"I guess, sir."_

_"Do you find help in the older students?" Severus wanted to know._

_"Yes, sir." Blaze answered. "In the Slytherins at least. And in some Ravenclaws, even if not often. The others, well, dunno …"_

_"I really would appreciate it, if you would avoid words like … 'dunno' … Mr. Zabini." Severus growled lightly. "That goes for the rest of you as well. I want you to articulate in more eloquent words and sentences. Using language is an art that I personally consider important and as I am the head of your house I want you to mind this subject as important as well. Concerning the different houses, you may find that Ravenclaw is the one house that might be a bit more tolerant towards Slytherin as the others are, because Ravenclaws do not only follow their emotions but actually uses their brains. Intelligence is preferred in Ravenclaw as well as in Slytherin."_

_"But why is it that the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs do not like the Slytherins? They like the Ravenclaws. And you say, the Ravenclaws are not so different from us, sir."_

_"That is a good question, Mr. Nott. You earned yourself a praemii for your thoughts." Severus said. "Ravenclaw indeed is the house that is closest to us. They are intelligent and they actually want to learn. Yet – they do not have to prove themselves as we do. They learn just for the learning itself, so they build intelligence. Slytherins do not only learn to build intelligence, but also to prove themselves. To friends, to family and even to ourselves. It is necessary for us as we do not have an as easy life as much of the students from other houses have."_

_"Like Potter." Draco murmured, his gaze lost in thoughts._

_"Yes, like Mr. Potter." Severus said, his voice quiet. He knew they came closer to a topic he wanted to cover today. "Against all odds, the sorting hat did choose the right house for Mr. Potter, never mind what others might think, Mr. Malfoy."_

_"How is he, Professor?" Daphne Greengrass asked._

_Severus was quiet for a long time before he answered, his face blank as ever, but his dark eyes stern and his voice firm. "You know that I cannot give away every information you might want to have, for the sake of Mr. Potter's privacy. But I at least can say that he is not well at the moment." He did not address Daphne in person, but all of the Slytherin first-years._

_"He will recover in time, even if we do not know yet if he will recover fully. Thus I want you to not only heed Mr. Potter's privacy and do not press him with questions as soon as he goes back to classes and later back to the common room, but to give him your support as well. He will need someone to rely on when he is back in the common room." Severus glanced at them with his dark eyes. "Some of the older students know what to do. As do the prefects. From you, as his classmates, I expect common sense and tact."_

_"What exactly did they do, that he is not able to attend classes? That he is even removed from the common room?" Theodore Nott asked, casting a strange look at Draco__, then at Dursley, before he looked back at the professor._

_"As I told you before, I cannot tell you all, for the privacy of Mr. Potter. But be ensured, you would not even want to know, Mr. Nott. There are a lot of children in our house coming from a home that is abusive. And not even all of them are ready to admit it."_

_Well, that was a hint that even Theodore couldn't miss._

_"Maybe one would not want to get into more trouble by speaking about it." Daphne Greengrass murmured._

_"You might be right, Miss Greengrass." Severus said, watching her with narrowed eyes. "But all of you should know that we, the teachers and the heads of houses especially, are here to help. You do know what the term 'head of house' means?"_

_Daphne and Theodore looked away, finding a point on the far wall very interesting, Draco noticed, and he himself found his stomach reeling a bit. Yet – he knew Severus better than the others and he knew he would help whenever possible. Crabbe and Goyle still looked like they might fall asleep at every moment while the rest of the first-years shook their heads._

"_The term 'head of house' means what the words say." Severus explained. "A house can be everything. A simple building. A family, a group of people within a school or any other community. The head of the house is – simply – the leader of said family or group. Within a family, in essence, the head of house is a biblical concept that the husband is to be the head of house and therefore in leadership of his wife and children. Here in Hogwarts the head of a house is in charge of giving his students his support, as well as he is in charge of discipline over his students, making decisions regarding his students' safety and giving his students advice for their future career. However, a head of a house has responsibilities and holds a position of power that one easily could abuse. What is not acceptable and not to be tolerated. Such always should be reported to someone who might be of help. A head of house does not only have to keep his members safe, he has to help whenever possible too. As one can belong to more than one house, like you as students, there might be some conflicts coming up. Who can tell what kind of conflicts I mean?"_

_There was silence for a moment before Draco answered. "The conflict between the head of the house in the family and the head of the house from school."_

_"Correct, Mr. Malfoy." Severus nodded. "Praemii. You might now think that your head of house within your family is the one who has more rights than the head of the house in school, and would you be muggles, then you would be quite right. But here in the wizarding world, we do follow other rules. The head of the house in which the student currently resides, is the one who is in charge. The reason for this is simply – that the student can feel free to address his __or her head of house without having to fear the consequences from his – or her – other head of house."_

_Draco could sense Severus' gaze at him and when he gazed at his godfather he looked into two dark eyes that watched him for a few more seconds before he roamed his gaze towards Daphne and then Theodore, watching both for a few seconds before he continued._

_"Does a teacher abuse his students, so the student can address his father without the fear that he might have to answer his teacher, for his – or her – father will take the matters in his hand. Does a father abuse his children, then they can address the head of their house in school without the fear that they might have to answer the head of their house at home, because the head of the house in school will act and solve the problem. With discretion and common sense. Do you see what I mean, Miss Greengrass?"_

_Daphne nodded, but she gave no answer, just gazed at her hands, a thoughtful expression on her face and Severus dropped the point – for now – Draco was sure. He knew his godfather well enough that he knew he would call Daphne into his office in a few days as well as Theodore. _

_When they did not come to speak with him first, that was._

_"How had your fist week here been, Mr. Goyle?" Severus addressed Gregory who __hadn't said a word thus far._

_"Hmpf." He made and Severus raised his eyebrow._

_"How eloquent, Mr. Goyle. Yet - I rather would prefer a verbal answer to my question in a language which, actually, I am able to understand."_

_"Well, it was ok, I guess." Gregory answered. "With __Vince and Millie around, it's quite funny here."_

_Vincent Crabbe nodded and Millicent Bulstrode rolled her eyes. Three idiots who fit together, Draco thought with a smirk on his face._

_"And learning? You do have no problems with your homework?"_

_"No, sir." Goyle answered. "We are in a study group together and it is easy."_

_Of course it was easy. Millie made the homework and Crabbe and Goyle only copied them. They were quite the trio._

_"The same goes for me." Vincent said. "I guess we became something like friends."_

_"That indeed is very good, Mr. Crabbe." Severus nodded. "It is important to have friends around in a place like this, in a place where you live for a time longer than a few hours a day. This is your home now, your family, and it is important to have someone you can count on, to share time with. Just remember to treat each other with respect if you do not wish to lose those persons."_

_"I would." Millicent laughed. "If those two idiots would show more brains sometimes."_

_Bulstrode had a point, Draco thought, and Severus definitely thought so as well as he seemed to prefer ignoring her comment what he did not normally do._

_"You do not seem to have something to say, Mr. Dursley, it seems, as you did not partake in this conversation." Severus finally asked. "Do you have any questions? Or anything to say?"_

_"I don't know what." Dudley said with a lame voice._

_"Well, Mr. Dursley, these meetings actually are held to not only ask questions or to solve problems, but to communicate within the class in the first place. Every subject you suggest is welcomed."_

_But no answer came besides of the shrugging of Dudley Dursley's shoulders and Severus frowned._

_"During the meeting next week I wish you to actually partake in the conversation, Mr. Dursley." Severus said, before he addressed the entire class. "Every one who was present does gain a praemii, and every one who did partake does gain another one. Miss Greengrass, I want to have a talk with you on Monday evening at seven o'clock. Mr. Nott, on Tuesday at seven o'clock. Mr. Zabini, I want you to write a short summary about the meeting for every one to look at. Please bring the parchment to the next meeting. And Miss Davis, please do not forget to write to your parents this weekend. And if you still do have problems sleeping, then please address me. And that is not a request, but an order."_

**End flashback**

Well, Severus had not sounded like the Death Eaters he knew. But then, no one of the other Death Eaters were teachers. He really did not know what to think.

If he did address Severus with his problem, that he did not want to become a Death Eater as his father wished him to, then – theoretically – Severus would kill him. Severus was a loyal follower of the Dark Lord. He had been in his inner circle. He had been one of his most trusted followers.

And none of them would accept him, a Malfoy, to refuse being a Death Eater. His father surely would rather kill him if he told him he did not want to become one. For him, as a son of Lucius Malfoy, a son of one of the most loyal followers, he was born to kiss the hem of the Dark Lord's robes just like all the other sycophants did.

If he only could find a way out of this.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus was sitting in his usual armchair in his chambers, considering the outcome of the meeting he had held earlier with his first-years. It definitely had been interesting. And he definitely had learned a few things during the meeting.

Well, that was the reason he held those meetings after all since years.

Sometimes he would get more information if speaking with his students in the separate appointments he always set, when they were alone and felt free to talk more openly. But sometimes, talking within a group, they pulled strength and courage from each other. And that was the reason why he held those meetings with his students as well.

Miss Parkinson for example was not ready yet to let go of her home and her parents. She was not ready yet to divorce her own thinking from her parent's beliefs. She would have to learn how to get her own opinions and how to word them. She would have to learn that she now was growing up and would live her own life. Not an easy task for an eleven year old girl, but manageable with some help.

Miss Davis still clung to her mother especially, and she missed her greatly. What was quite understandable. It would not be easy for her to let go. And she felt too shy to ask him for help. Maybe he should ask Poppy to have an eye on her, to offer a conversation with her. The girl maybe felt more at ease when being in the presence of a woman.

Mr. Zabini was an intelligent young man who noticed his surroundings well. He was ready to accept help, even from students of other houses and he didn't feel shy to address this. He easily smiled and it was a warm smile that actually reached his eyes. He was someone who was free, who could _feel_ free to enjoy his childhood. Something Severus did not see often within his Slytherins. Zabini would learn easily. One at least could notice that he had been home schooled before Hogwarts.

Greengrass and Nott.

He would have to have a word with Miss Greengrass and with Mr. Nott. Both of whom he thought being candidates for mistreatment at home.

The way Nott had declared that he was glad not being at home. The way Greengrass had mentioned that some might not want to get into more trouble by speaking about it. Whatever _it_ was. And the way both had looked away, the look in their eyes, the expression on their faces during this topic.

Well, it was not a surprise to him, as both students came from families with Death Eaters. Theodore Nott's father was one. And he was not only just a simple Death Eater. Nott senior was one of the cruellest of the entire horde. No wonder he was one of the leaders to the remaining group of Death Eaters together with Walden McNair, Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy. He loved to inflict pain and fear. And Severus doubted that he would make a stop when it came to his own son.

And Miss Greengrass had a few uncles who were Death Eaters. They were within the lower ranks, but they _were_ Death Eaters. He doubted that they had too much contact, but he seldom was wrong when it came to his students and the subject of mistreatment. He normally could count onto his instincts. Regrettably.

Yes, he rather would prefer it, would he be wrong sometimes. Or better, always. It was sickening, and it was maddening. He hated it, the fact that he had those children in his house year after year. And in the most cases, he could not do as much as he would like to do against it. Regrettably. By the time now, he had learned how to handle them, how to help them, but he would never really get used to it.

Yes, he would have a word with them.

What led him to Draco.

Draco. Well, Draco seemed to have thought a few points over. One definitely was Harry. Draco was concerned, he could tell, even if he did not show it. But Draco never was one to show many emotions. Thanks to his father. Lucius Malfoy was one of the Death Eaters in the inner circle who placed their loyalty towards the Dark Lord in high regards. He acted with arrogance and with intelligence, never giving away every card he held in his sleeve. A true Slytherin he was indeed. And he definitely had a pang for violence.

Severus for example knew that he had beaten Draco more just once at least.

The other point Draco seemed to consider, he could not place a name to. But there was something that bothered his godson. Maybe he was considering his father's position as a Death Eater. And Maybe he thought of his own future, was searching for a way out.

But could he dare to address Draco with this?

What if this wasn't the subject his godson was considering?

What if he revealed to him that he was not a true follower of the Dark Lord but a spy?

Draco possibly would run to his father with the information. Out of fear. Out of the desire to proof himself to his father. Out of his desire for being loved by his father as he never had been.

Not only would his life be at stake then, but the order would lose their spy. They would lose their source for information.

And there was the oath he once had sworn. The oath towards Lily – and himself. The oath that he would protect Harry. How could he protect the boy when he was dead? How could he protect him from his only relatives when he was dead? How could he protect him from the dark side that still hunted the boy? It had not been an unbreakable vow, nor any other kind of a magical vow. Lily never would have demanded _that _from him. But he took every vow he made seriously. As he did with every promise he made.

But did he have the right to abandon Draco for Harry? Did he have the right to abandon one boy for another?

He would have to find a way so he could do justice to both boys. Draco had made one step, thinking Harry's situation over. Maybe it was _his _time now to - somehow - take action regarding his godson.

He would have to be very careful, but it wasn't the first time after all that he walked this edge of knife. He walked it with a lot of students in his house. He walked it with every student who had Death Eaters in the family and found out about his true loyalties.

Yes, he never told them directly that he was a spy. Even if he was sure that his student did not want to follow this path, did search for a way out. The danger was just too high. No, he always encouraged them to think of their own, to make their own decisions, to follow their own instincts. When he noticed that said student was about to want and refuse becoming a Death Eater, but did not know how, just then he gave hints. Here a small comment, there a small hint, and here a well placed question or sentence.

Nothing that would really give him away, should the student just test him, or was he still unsure. Nothing that would doom him to a death sentence. But enough so his student would know he could address him, he could trust him.

Well, and last but not least, speaking of Potter and Potter's relatives earlier, Dursley was another problem.

The boy had been brought up by a bully of a father. He had learned nothing else than bullying others. And he had been spoiled to no end. But was it that? There surly had to be a way so he would be able to change him somehow. He would have to take a different approach than he had until now. But Dursley surely was not the first student he had been able to change. And the boy was not stupid.

He just never did learn to use his brain. And he never had been taught what was right and wrong. He wanted to please his father in mirroring Dursley senior's actions and bullying Harry. But the child surely was not all evil by himself. He at least would try it.

He only would have to be careful when he brought Dursley and Harry together, when Harry went back into the common room, into his dormitory. He would have to have a close eye on the boys. And he would have to speak with Dursley beforehand, as he would have to speak with Harry about this.

But not now.

Harry was not ready for this yet.

And finally, there were Bulstrode, Crabbe and Goyle. They were quite a trio. Miss Bulstrode was not stupid. She was intelligent. But she was – well, not really girlish. She was one who played rather with boys than with girls. And she would do everything to get friends. Even if those friends were stupid and she had to do the work for them.

Of course he knew that she did the essays and Crabbe and Goyle only copied them down from her.

However, she at least was no dolly-bird.

The two boys, Crabbe and Goyle, well, they were just too stupid to change them. They never had to use their brains. If they even had one, Severus thought. If they were as stupid as their fathers were, then they surely were mentally retarded. Both, Crabbe and Goyle senior had gotten all of them into trouble during Death Eater meetings often enough while disappointing the Dark Lord, had placed all their lives at risk with their stupidity.

Being a Death Eater meant to be not only strong and brave. It meant one had to use his brains as well. It was a life with many risks and with many dangers.

Even if not being a spy.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Dumbledore stood beside the large fireplace, in front of the perch Fawks - the phoenix - sat on, stroking his finger over the bird's head and down his back. His smile was gone, as was the twinkling of his eyes.

"How could I have made such a mistake, Fawks?" He whispered, as if expecting an answer from the bird. And indeed, the bird trilled softly, as if somehow trying to comfort the old wizard.

"How could I have been so blind?" Dumbledore asked. "I should have known. From the moment when Lily's sister sent the letter to Hogwarts, with the request to attend this school together with the younger witch. When I had to refuse her. Petunia Evans was quite angry at that. I should have known that this anger turned to hate. And that her hate towards her sister would be turned against the boy. I should have known, Fawks."

Again the bird trilled softly, nibbled his beak against the headmaster's fingers.

"It is my fault when the boy does not recover." Albus continued, a small tear escaping his eyes. "It is my fault. Maybe he will not even be able to defeat Voldemort as the prophecy told. Maybe we can be glad if he just survives, from what Severus told me. I did not even visit him yet. I do not dare to, my dear Fawks. I fear what I might find. And I fear that … I never should have forced Lily to marry James. She would have been much more happy with Severus. And Severus would have treated her well. And Harry. The boy would have had a father at least. He still would have a family."

Slowly he turned and sighed. "So much mistakes." He whispered. "I even wonder now if I should tell Severus the entire truth. I wonder, if I still should keep this secret from him. He has suffered enough, Fawks. But then – what good would it do to both of them? What good would it do if I told Severus the whole truth? If I told Severus that he is …"

Again Dumbledore turned towards the bird that was watching him, trilling nearly encouragingly, daring him to go on with his line of thoughts, encouraging him to really _do _what he thought of doing, and Dumbledore smiled sadly.

"You do not know what it would mean, Fawks." His voice was sad and wavering. "If I told him, and Voldemort comes back, then he will hear about this. And I know that he will come back. He is not gone for good, not now. And if he ever found out, then both of them would be in great danger. Voldemort would not only kill Harry, but Severus as well."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Minerva paced her office nervously. This evening she would go down into the dungeons to visit Severus and Potter. For the first time, that was. And she had to admit – even if this was a rare occasion – that she was nervous. And she did not like this feeling.

She simply did not know what would await her down there. And she did no know how to react amongst the boy, not to mention how to act in the first place.

Such was quite a new situation for her.

Never before had she had dealings with mistreated children. And if she was honest with herself, then she had to admit that she knew nothing. And the fact that Severus actually did ask her for help didn't do anything to shatter her concerns at all.

Severus was a just too proud man to ask for help. He never did.

Often enough had she been present when he went back from one of the Death Eater meetings, and the sight of Severus then was never a pleasant one. Sometimes he was more death than alive. And nevertheless he always would refuse help. He was just too proud and too stubborn for his own good.

And considering the fact how he had handled Potter until now, from what she had seen, what would he await from her? She never would be able to act as Severus had acted.

And what if she made a mistake? What if she could not watch and stand by? What if she – against Poppy's advice – interfered? What if she worsened the situation?

She did not even know sign language. How was she supposed to communicate with Potter? How many signs did the boy know by now? And would he even be ready to communicate at all? Even with signs? But how would she understand them? She did not know one single sign. It never had been necessary for her to learn them.

And how would the boy feel when she was around? He did not know her at all. And his mental state was worse than during the first class of transfiguration, Severus had said. Back then, Potter had handled the situation quite well. But would he do so now?

Just too much was at the stake.

Thus – she simply was nervous.

But knowing that it couldn't be helped, that she just had to shove her nervousness aside for now, she sighed and left her office, closing the door behind her and walking towards the dungeons.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Old habits – or old fears – are hard to lay aside and Severus should have known that Harry at some points would fall back, would take a step backwards._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you


	16. a step backwards

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

Again I wish to apologize for the delay in this chapter. But as it was Christmas and then the New Year approached, there was quite a handful to do.

And – there was the Christmas-story I published here. It seemed important to me to do so, so I did.

The next chapters of course will be added in an approximately weekly rhythm as before.

**Added Note:**

.oO( … yes … it still is there … )

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Later, as Harry walked into his room, Severus knew what a long process this was going to be but he had not been lying when he told Harry he could be patient. He would be. And when he went to bed that evening he felt a bit more at ease than he had been feeling until now. The boy was taking very small steps but steps at that._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter sixteen**

**A step backwards**

During the first few days, Severus had supervised Harry's diet resolutely, making sure that he had only toast or rusk and tea or warm milk with honey three times a day at least and broth or other light soups at least two times a day. After three days, the diet was exchanged for light meals like boiled vegetables and mashed potatoes.

Yet, even though Harry _had_ eaten, he never had managed to eat the meals completely and it had been obvious to Severus that he was forcing himself to eat anything in order to do as he was told, rather out of fear and not because his appetite truly had returned. Mostly he just made himself eat the meals that Severus ordered for him, or drink a mug of milk with honey or tea without really wanting to do so. But at least he _did_ eat and drink meanwhile.

Nevertheless the little strength he had left began to leave him more and more even if he finally managed to eat and drink the small amounts without throwing up. But it was simply not enough at all. There just was too less of his strength left at all. And the boy never asked for anything to eat by himself, nor would he admit that he was hungry in the first place. Well, maybe his body simply had stopped recognizing hunger signals.

Or he just didn't dare to admit it – not even to himself, Severus thought, what was more likely.

And the boy himself – well, Severus noticed that Harry knew well enough that he was much too weak, that he was not able to stand a few minutes at a row without leaning onto a wall or a shelf for support, that he still couldn't keep his fingers from trembling and his hands, his arms from twitching, and that he was getting more and more frustrated with himself every day that passed.

Just now they were sitting beside the fireplace and from the guilty look on the boy's face Severus knew that Harry thought he had done something wrong but couldn't tell what it would be this time. He was perched on the edge of the sofa, looking uncomfortable and fearful.

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Harry knew he had done something wrong – again – but for the life of him, he did not know what it could be this time. Perhaps he should give up trying to figure it out. There simply was no succeed, no chance to get it right. Not ever.

Again the professor had had to tell him that he should eat more. That he still was too weak. Yet – he knew this. He knew this by himself. But there simply was nothing he could do against it. He tried. He really tried. But he just couldn't eat more. He already got those cramps in his stomach whenever he ate the little he actually _did_ eat and he bowed his head in defeat. He just would have to take his punishment. It wasn't anything new to him after all.

"I'm sorry." He signed.

Severus watched the boy with a sad sigh. "No, Harry." He said. "Do not apologize. There is no need to. Let us just take step for step to remedy the situation. Try to eat more at dinner tonight to begin with."

"Yes, sir." Came the boy's reply. "It's just …" Harry broke off and looked back down at his fingers again.

"It is just what?" Severus inquired after a moment when it was clear that Harry wouldn't go on.

There was a long pause, but then the boy signed with so small and unsure signs that Severus had to concentrate on them to understand what Harry tried to tell him. "It's just, that I always have those cramps whenever I eat."

There was no answer from the professor. No ranting, no angry shouts, and no grabbing him and beating him. Just this silence that was almost worse and Harry swallowed nervously, not daring to look up. Well, now he had managed it and made the older wizard angry again, in spite of his determination not to do so and he waited tensely for the professor's rage to come.

"Why didn't you just ask for something for the cramps?" Professor Snape finally asked. "There are potions for such. And if you do remember, then I am still a Potions Master. I easily could have provided you with them. Next time, just ask for one of them."

Just in this moment Zilly popped up, placing a tray with toast and tea at the small coffee table and Severus noticed that the toasts were covered with chocolate. Well, he really wasn't a fan of sweets and normally he would prefer sandwiches in the late afternoon. But well, Zilly had obviously selected the sweet toast with the thought that the boy would maybe eat a bit more then. And, well, if Harry could be tempted to eat a little more than normally, then it would be worth a try. If he could stomach it without getting cramps or throwing up, that was. So he turned towards Harry.

"Do you need a potion for your stomach?" He asked.

"Yes, sir." Came the hesitant reply after a long moment and a guilty look. But then - "I'm sorry."

"You do not have to apologize for needing something." Severus said with a shaking of his head and sighing in frustration he got up and went to his personal store room where he kept his potions and the ingredients that were not meant for the students or for classes but were his own, to get the potion that would calm the boy's stomach. Why did the boy feel the need to apologize every five minutes? It was just annoying. But then – what else should the boy do to make better chances of avoiding a punishment?

He just didn't know how he could get the boy to trust him, to believe he would not beat him, to stop those apologies. All the other children he'd had under his care thus far would have begun to trust him by now. They would even search out anything from him, affection they so long missed, kind words they never before had gotten, attention they so long lacked. But not Harry. This boy just seemed to avoid drawing any attention towards himself in case he made a mistake and got punished for it. And once more sighing in frustration he grabbed the required vial from the shelf and went back into the living area.

"Drink this." He said, reaching the vial towards the boy who hesitantly reached out to take it from his hand. The boy would have to touch his hand in order to take the potion, but he didn't place it at the table for the boy to take it from there.

The boy's fingers indeed touched his as he took the vial and a small tremor ran through the small form while the green eyes widened in fear.

"It is alright." Severus said before Harry could apologize again. "Take it, and then let us have tea."

Well, the boy didn't apologize this time, but the guilty look that crossed his face spoke enough. He would have apologized if he hadn't said anything before and once more he barely visibly shook his head.

"Take a toast." He said, and after Harry obeyed they sat there in silence for a while, eating, and Severus clearly could see the fight that went on in the boy. On one hand he really seemed to relish the sweet toast. He looked like he never had had anything like that in his life. Well, he was sure the boy never _had _had such before. What had Minerva told him? Stale bread and water? His anger at the Dursleys rose again. How could anyone do such to a child!

He was not a friendly man. And he surely was not a man with an overlarge understanding and patience for children. But he worked with the children for long enough now that he knew what was right and what was wrong. He was a teacher long enough now that he knew what a child needed. And at least three meals a day, regular sleep, a place larger than a cupboard and care, physical and mental support - were such things.

At the same time the boy looked guilty at eating the sweet toast. The way he looked between the toast and him, watching him close, especially his hands, told him so and he didn't like this. He didn't want the boy to fear him, to fear his hands. To fear he would beat him. He had told him often enough he never would beat him, but the boy didn't believe him. He _couldn't_ believe him.

He knew it wasn't the boy's fault at all. The boy reacted only out of his fear. It was the Dursley's fault. They had destroyed all trust in the child. Again his anger at the muggles rose and he gritted his teeth to keep himself from forming a fist in his anger. The boy still was watching his hands and of course he would notice such. And he would come to the wrong conclusion.

"I'm sorry!"

Severus noticed the sign out of his eyes. Nevertheless he could tell the boy had used it nearly forcefully, as if screaming would he have used his voice. The toast lay on the boy's plate, abandoned and Harry himself was perched in the furthest corner of the sofa, as far away from him as possible, his arm halfway raised, ready to be thrown up at once in defy. And the sheer terror that was written in the young face made Severus' heart clench painfully.

The boy had not only watched his hands but his face as well and he had seen him clenching his teeth.

"Do not apologize!" He said, trying to get a grip on himself, to get his impassive mask back in place and to dissipate his anger at the same time.

"I'm sorry." Came the answer. The boy really apologized for apologizing!

"Don't - apologize, I said!" Severus snapped, his nerves already on edge after days of fruitless endeavour. "That is a matter we have to discuss as well. You apologize whenever it clearly is not your wrong doing. And you have to stop this." Severus shook his head and got to his feet. He had to get his composure back before he addressed the boy further. In the state he just now was in, he only would frighten him more.

Harry at the same time saw the professor losing his temper and getting to his feet and immediately he started to panic and curled into himself, started to hyperventilate, started to tense up to a point where he thought he would snap into two pieces. He should have known that he would do something stupid to anger the man. And he should have known that at some point the professor would lose his patience with him as well as uncle Vernon always had. He had this effect on the people around him. He always caused them to lose their temper. And he always caused them to finally beat him. It was his fault.

He tried to somehow get some air into his lungs, but he just couldn't breathe rightly and he knew he would suffocate. But this as well was his fault. Because he was weak and because he was a coward. He always was. And it always was his fault.

The terror that radiated from the boy made Severus stop mid-step and he sighed. He couldn't leave the boy alone now. Not in this state. He just had to get his mask back immediately. He had to get his control back at once and after taking a few deep breathes he went back to the boy, placing his fingertips under Harry's chin and lifting the small face so he had to look at him.

He should have had better control over himself. The boy of course had watched him, he always did, and he had seen him getting angry, he had seen him losing his calm mask, and of course he had come to the wrong conclusion. Just what he had tried to avoid. He should have remained seated and he should have kept his mask in place.

"Hush, child." He whispered, placing his hand on the boy's chest and thus trying to control the ragged breathing a bit. "Breathe slowly and calmly. Take deep breathes. You will be quite fine." But it didn't seem to help, the boy's quickened breathing just worsened and he got too much oxygen into his system while feeling as if suffocating at the same time. The panic intensified and he tried to squirm away from him.

Not sure if he did the right thing he gathered the boy into his arms and pulled him against his chest. He knew the boy only would panic further if he placed his hand over the boy's mouth in order to minimize the oxygen that over flooded Harry's system, so he just held the boy's head so his face laid against his chest. He would be able to breath, but he would not get as much oxygen into his system. He only could hope that it was the right thing, that it worked and that the boy wouldn't panic further.

"Easy, child." He whispered at the same time, rubbing small and calming circles onto Harry's back, trying to sooth him further. "Everything is quite alright. You are quite fine. You will not suffocate. You are quite safe. Just calm down."

The small and tense body he held in his arms trembled, but he noticed that Harry tried to do as he was told, that the boy tried to take slower breathes despite the fear he surely felt and he felt his own chest clenching in pain at the pain the boy felt.

It took him a few minutes, but finally he had the boy calm again. Well, as calm as possible at least. Harry still was having trouble to really breath calmly and the small body shook in his arms. But he did not hyperventilate anymore. And he did not try to get out of his grip either. They had made it through another panic attack.

Well, it wouldn't be the last one, Severus knew.

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"Will you punish me now?" The boy signed after he had back control over himself and Severus had released him. He knew that Harry didn't do this to anger him, nor to try out the boundaries of this new place as every other child would do. He was just trying to get over with it. Maybe even he was just trying to understand what was expected of him. And what _he_ could expect.

He couldn't believe this was the boy he once had known, the boy that once had been sitting on his lap, giggling joyfully when he growled at him. This boy, even if using sign language, was stammering, stepping back and acting as if any minute he would beat him into the next oblivion. And again he sighed while closing his eyes for a moment, feeling sick to the stomach. How could he ever ensure the boy that he wouldn't do so?

He again reached out towards Harry to pull the boy into his arms as the anger left him, as the only feeling left was ache for the boy.

Harry immediately raised his arms to protect himself from the blow he awaited but Severus draw the boy close and held him firmly against his chest anyway, a look of horror on his face. No, he really never would get used to this.

"No, child!" He whispered. "I will not do so. There is no need for a punishment. I am not angry at you." Holding the boy away a bit so he could look into his eyes, he continued in his soft whisper. "I just wished you finally would trust me, you finally would believe me that I never would beat you. That you finally would see that I am not your uncle."

A tremor ran through Harry's entire body and Severus tightened the gentle grip he had on the boy's upper arms.

"Forgive me." He signed.

"There is nothing to forgive." Severus said, looking into an exhausted face. "You did nothing wrong. Maybe you should try to rest a bit here on the sofa."

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It was an hour later when Severus heard the small whimper coming from the boy and he turned towards the sofa. The boy was awake, but he didn't seem to notice anything that occurred around him. He was sitting there, pressed into the far corner of the sofa, and the Potions Master cautiously reached out to brush his hand across the boy's arm, pausing when Harry forcefully wrenched away from his touch with a quiet whimper.

"Harry!" He sighed and watched as the boy curled up into a ball as small as possible while his hands fisted in his wild strands of hair, his back now facing towards the older wizard. He didn't seem to hear him and curled in on himself even further.

Severus tried another approach. He crouched before the frightened boy and laid his hands on the boy's shoulders, shaking him gently. "It is me, Harry." He said. Not as loud so to startle the boy, but loud enough so he would hear him. "It is me, Professor Snape. You are alright. You are safe. No one is going to hurt you."

The boy stilled a bit, yet – he did not relax and Severus let out an exhausted sight before he moved to sit beside Harry. "Hush, child." He whispered. "Hush. I know what kind of fear you right now feel." Gently he wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders, frowning at the repeated flinch he received.

"And I know that you feel like drowning in this fear. But you are safe here, child." He continued, trying to keep his voice as gently and as calm as possible. "You are in the castle, and it is heavily warded. No one would ever bring anyone here who might hurt you. You are quite safe. It was nothing more than just a dream. No one is here besides of you and me. And I will not hurt you. It was only a dream, nothing more."

Again it took Severus long minutes of whispering calming words and rubbing small and gentle circles onto Harry's back and shoulders until the boy slowly began to relax under his touch.

"Can you tell me what happened?" The Potions Master finally asked in his soft voice when the boy's tremors had stilled and now lay in his arms, exhausted but nearly comfortable as it seemed. The shoulders still were tense, as were his arms, ready to throw them up in defense should he make a simple threatening movement. But he leaned against his chest willingly, leaning his head onto his shoulder and Severus felt his heart speeding up.

He should have been startled by the question, Harry thought. But the professor's hand that still was running over his back was doing some sort of magic, was calming him somehow in a way he never before had felt and he answered without the fear he normally felt, with just a slight hesitation.

"I ... forgot where I was." He signed.

"Understandable." The professor answered. "You were having a nightmare, I guess and after waking you had to sort out your surroundings first."

He didn't answer to this. Not knowing how far he could go, not knowing how far he could trust the man and surely not knowing how far he could push the man.

"Tell me what is bothering you." Professor Snape asked of him, his voice sounding tired. "I might be able to help you. But I cannot do anything if you do not tell me what is wrong."

After hearing how tired the professor sounded Harry began to cry silently. It was his fault. It was his fault that the professor was tired. It was his fault, because he couldn't keep his fear under control. He made the professor tired.

He wanted to apologize for making him tired. But would he do so, then the professor again would be angry at him. He didn't know what to do. So he did the only thing he could do at the moment and he turned and buried his face in the black robes of the man, crying like he hadn't done in long years, crying like he hadn't done since his uncle had beaten him for crying when he was sitting in his cupboard. He shivered at the memory.

Severus noticed the boy shiver, but he didn't lift the boy's head to look into his face.

It was the first time the boy had shown enough trust to turn towards him, to cry in front of him, to cling to his robes as if they were a lifeline and he did not want to destroy this moment. He realized that somehow he really had grown to care very much for Harry in the past days. Somehow the boy had managed to worm his way into his heart - despite his attempts to prevent it. And yet – Severus couldn't bring himself to mind.

This was the boy he once had loved. And somehow, somehow he began to love this boy again. But even this, he couldn't bring himself to mind this.

He once had sworn that never again he would love someone, that never again he would allow himself such emotions, that never again he would allow anyone to hurt him in such a way. And for ten long years now he had kept this oath. But now he began to love this boy whom he had loved ten long years ago, and he found that didn't mind.

"Are you warm enough?" He asked, his voice still a whisper, while he took the blanket from the backrest of the sofa and laid it over the boy's thin body, never taking his eyes off Harry who still cried in his arms and he swore to himself that he would do anything that was needed to have him talk again, to have him laugh again, to have him being happy again.

He didn't get an answer from the boy, but he didn't mind. He had not expected one anyway.

"We have to get you some clothes besides of your school robes." He continued muttering, not sure if he tried to calm his own nerves or if he tried to calm the boy in his arms as well. And he didn't care either. "Warm clothes, as it is quite cold down here in the dungeons. Maybe we could go to Diagon Alley next week."

The boy in his arms had calmed down a bit as had he himself and he noticed Harry lifting his head, shaking his head, a startled expression on his face.

"I don't need …" The child began to sign, not knowing the words he needed and gazing up at the elder wizard, just to flinch as he looked up into angry dark eyes and he was about to move away from the professor.

Severus would have none of this, and he tightened the grip he had on the boy to keep him in his arms.

"Hush, child!" He said, frowning at the boy. "I am not angry at you. But I do not want you to search a way out of this. You _need_ clothes. And it is not your responsibility to provide for yourself. Neither with clothes, nor with food. It never should have been. You are a child and not an adult. And – as I am your guardian – from now on, I will buy the things that you need. And as we are at it, you will get a weekly allowance. But you will use this allowance to buy the things that you want, not the things that you need."

The startled expression on the boy's face was back and the shaking of the head was quite enough to tell him that Harry was frightened at the thought of him buying clothes for the boy, and providing him with everything he would need and even giving him a weekly allowance. Well, this approach maybe had been a bit too quick. And he knew exactly why the boy feared this thought.

"Listen, Harry." He began to explain. "Take Draco Malfoy. Would you think that Draco has to provide himself with food?"

Harry shook his head.

"So, who do you think would provide him with food?"

"His father." Harry signed after a few moments of hesitation.

"Correct." Severus answered. "Lucius Malfoy is providing his son with food. Then take Theodore Nott. Do you think that he is buying the clothes he wears by his own?"

Again Harry shook his head.

"So, who do you think does buy his clothes?"

"His father." Harry answered.

"That is correct." Severus said, watching the boy close. "Now, their fathers, their parents, they are their guardians, aren't they?"

Harry, seemingly knowing where this would lead to nodded hesitantly.

"Good. Then, if they are their guardians, and if they are providing their children with food and clothes and other supplies they need, then what do you think I will do as I am your guardian?"

"With food and … and …" Not knowing the sign for clothes he cast a helpless gaze at Severus and the older wizard placed the tips of his thumbs over his chest and then moved both hands openly, simultaneously downwards, repeating the movement. "Clothes." He explained.

Harry just nodded and then – how could it have been otherwise – rotated the fist of his right hand over his chest in a few clockwise movements. The sign for being sorry, for apologizing, and Severus sighed.

"There is no need to apologize." He said. "Repeat the sign for clothes so you might remember it later."

Harry did as he was told, repeated the sign a few times, until Severus was pleased with the movements.

"Good." The older wizard then said. "So, we quite agree over the fact that I, as your guardian, have to provide you with clothes and with food. With everything that you need."

"But I do not want to be a burden." Came the signed words.

"You are not a burden, Harry." Severus said. "You are a child. And you do have the right of being provided with what you need as is every other child. You do have the right for food, for clothes, for school supplies and even books and toys. You have the right to live a life in joy and happiness as has every other child. And as I am your guardian, it is my responsibility to do so. And not only because I have to, but because I want to. I would not do it, if I would not want to do so. I claimed guardianship over you by free will. No one forced me to do so. No one would have been able to force me. I wanted to do this."

"Does this …" Harry began to sign, but then stopped and looked down, nearly ashamed and Severus lifted his eyebrow.

"Ask your question, Harry." He said. "You are allowed to ask questions here."

Harry shook his head, still not looking at him.

"Ask - your question." Severus repeated.

"Does this … does this make …" Again the boy stopped, still not looking at him and Severus had to restrain himself from repeating his request.

"Does this make you …" For a moment the boy's green eyes came up at him and Severus easily could see the fear in them, the hesitancy, the unsureness and the – hope. The first time he saw something like hope in the boy's eyes. But then this small trace of hope was gone and the boy cast his eyes back downwards. The signs stopped and Harry lowered his hands into his lap.

"You might continue, Harry." Severus again demanded when it was clear that the boy would not continue.

"It's stupid." The boy answered and shook his head.

"I am sure it is not a stupid question, as I do not think of you as a stupid child. You actually are a very intelligent child. Thus I guess your question might be quite interesting. So, continue. Nothing you ask will be held against you later."

Again there was no reaction besides of a few unsure glances towards him and Severus had to force himself to wait patiently. He was rewarded with the boy lifting his hands to finally ask his question, even if it was with slow and unsure movements.

"Does this ... make you … my … father?" The boy asked.

Severus sighed. He had suspected this question might come. But what to answer the boy?

Would he say yes, then it was a lie. He was not Harry's father just because he had gained guardianship over him. He had to adopt him to be his father. But would he say no, then he would destroy the little hope he had seen for a split second in those otherwise so sad eyes. And he did not want to do this.

"This question indeed is not a stupid one. It actually is a very good question that proves - you use your brain." He answered, playing for time to think. "First, you do not have a father, so it would be just logical to ask your guardian if he automatically overtook this role. Second, you have seen some of my memories where I was about to start a family with you and your mother. In which case I actually would have been your father. And third, there is the fact that I claimed guardianship over you willingly. Thus, no, it is not a stupid question."

He watched Harry for a moment before he continued. "As to answer your question. No, it does not make me your father automatically. Not yet. There would be to do more than that. One possibility for example would be that I adopt you."

There was no answer this time and Harry looked quite uncomfortable, his eyes lowered back onto his hands.

"As you know," Severus slowly began, not sure if this was what Harry really wanted to hear. "I already was about to start a family with you and your mother. I already planned to adopt you, years ago. Thus – yes, I would be willing to do so. But I am not the only one who should be confident with that. And before we would take this step, I would have to know that this really would be what you wanted. It would not be something we should decide hastily, for it is a step that surely would change our both lives."

Harry gazed at the professor in pure shock.

Professor Snape really would adopt him? Would be his father? But that …

No, it couldn't be true. He surely didn't mean this serious. He never would do such. No one would do such. He was a nuisance. He was a burden. And he was a stupid freak. No one would do such for him, and no one ever could love him.

Probably the professor had just said so in order to calm him, in order to … maybe because he did not want to hurt him. He surely wouldn't.

And he even more would be a burden then.

And maybe then the professor had even more reasons to once beat him, even if he always said he wouldn't.

And the professor then would have to pay even more for him.

And he couldn't give anything back to the man.

And what if … what if … what if he would abandon him later? What if he would hate him later?

No! Better not getting his hopes up and then being crashed when he didn't do it – or when it didn't work.

Crying again he turned away from the man and buried his face into the backrest of the sofa this time, not wanting to be comforted by the professor any more.

Severus shook his head. He knew exactly what was going through the boy's mind.

The boy didn't believe his words. He didn't believe he was ready to really adopt him. And he didn't believe he was worth the effort, worth to be loved, worth to be anyone's son. Slowly he reached out his hand and placed it over the shaking shoulders, trying to give at least this bit of comfort, even if the boy was not ready yet to be comforted by him properly.

"We do not have to discuss this yet." He said. "It was a tiring discussion. Maybe you want to just read a book before dinner to get your mind off this subject and we can continue this conversation any other day."

Harry gave no answer to this and after a few more minutes Severus left the boy to his own, went towards his laboratory to get one of his potions finished. He would look after the boy from time to time. It wasn't a complicated potion and he could take a pause in brewing between nearly every step.

Yet – his mind wasn't with the potion at all but with Harry. The boy had taken the book with the signs, flipping through the pages in search for new signs to learn. But he had cried again a few times. In the past few hours the boy had cried more often than not.

It was a good thing. It meant the boy finally opened up, allowed himself to lower his mask and his feelings to flow. But the fact that he did not allow him – Severus – to comfort him anymore after their discussion, well, it really bothered him greatly. It showed him what the boy not only thought of himself but what he felt of himself either.

Severus sighed, one step forwards and two steps back.

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There was quite a few minutes left until dinner and he could prepare the boy, give him the potion that would calm his stomach before they ate. Of course he knew that the boy still was much too thin and weak for those potions. But if the boy didn't eat properly then they gained nothing out of the few bites the boy forced down. Harry should learn that eating was something he could enjoy. So he slowly was climbing the stairs from his laboratory just when he heard Harry screaming at the top of his lungs and he gathered speed and went back into the living area.

The screaming had stopped by the time he entered but Harry was straight up at the sofa sobbing and he realized that Harry had been suffering a horrible nightmare. Yet again.

"It's alright, Harry." He said in a soothing tone while he went over to the sofa. "It was just a nightmare. It is over now."

But the boy only pulled back from him with a startled look in his eyes and he was looking for all the world as though he feared Severus was going to hex him into next oblivion. Slowly he sat beside the boy, reaching out to just lay his hand onto the boy's to still their shaking, but again Harry flinched back. If he just would be able to touch the boy without inflicting this kind of fear. If just he could take the boy into his arms to calm him, to ease his terror and to show him that he didn't want him any harm but want to be …

To be what?

What exactly did he want? What exactly did he want to be for Harry?

There had been a time when he had been ready to adopt the boy, when he had been ready to claim Lily and Harry as his, as his family. There had been a time when he had been ready to be a father for Harry.

But was he ready now? Would he even be able to be a father for the boy?

He was a spy. And as a spy he was a rough man, this he knew. He wasn't used to show his emotions towards anyone. He wasn't used to care for anyone. The students called him a cruel bastard. And he was one, he knew. He was a dark and a cold man who had committed enough crimes during his career as a spy. He had tortured people, he had even murdered people. He never had liked to do so, he had hated it, but he had done so anyway.

Was someone like him able to be a father? And a father for a child like Harry?

He didn't know.

But he knew that he wanted to help Harry. That he wanted the boy to be happy once more, as he had been that many years ago.

Sighing heavily he moved his hand away, but spoke in a gentle, reassuring tone that very few people had ever heard him use. "It is all right, child." He said. "You are safe now. It was just a nightmare and it is over now. You are still in the castle and no one besides of you and me are here in this quarters. You are safe. Place your hands onto the sofa and feel it, feel the reality of it and try to remember where you are and who is with you."

Harry glanced around while he did so and finally he swallowed hard. "I'm sorry for waking you." He signed in a still somewhat disorientated state.

"Do not worry, child. I was not sleeping. We did not even have dinner yet. It still is just the late afternoon hour and I only was down in the laboratory to work on a potion. Nevertheless, I would not be able to sleep now anyway. I never slept during day since a long time, since I was a child by myself." Severus said. He slightly wondered why he was not reluctant to admit something like that to a student. Well, he was becoming quite used to the boy being around him. The small movements the boy made, sitting on the sofa, reading the book about the signs, watching him ever so often.

Worrying over the fact that the boy should eat more. Ensuring that it wasn't too cold and the boy wouldn't freeze. Watching for the small signs of fear or pain the boy gave away and worrying how he could ease them without too much magic or magical potions.

Well, yes. If he looked at it from this point of view, then he was ready to claim Harry as his son. Then he was ready to be a father.

But he still was Severus Snape. And Severus Snape didn't care. Severus Snape wasn't ready to be a father to anyone and surely not for a boy that had been mistreated and abused as Harry had been. And Severus Snape wasn't someone who eased a student, who showed his feelings towards anyone and surely not towards the students. Severus Snape was a cold, a dark and a tough man. A spy, a former Death Eater, a man who had committed a lot of crimes in his past.

But then – wasn't it just what he did since years? Comforting his Slytherins? The students in his house that had been abused by their parents who were Death Eaters themselves?

And he had gotten quite used to interpreting the boy's gestures and facial expressions, his entire body language.

Severus pulled away slightly to look into tear filled green eyes and he was relieved to find the terror slowly retreating from the boy's face, even if the fear remained.

"Dinner will be served in a few minutes." The Potions Master said. "Take this potion now, so it can work properly when you begin to eat. I am sure it will help and you will be able to eat without getting cramps."

Harry nodded and took the vial auf of his hand, again slowly, but this time he didn't seem to be as startled when their hands touched as he had been earlier and Severus nodded.

"I have been working on a potion that is based on simple plants with calming effects. I am sure I can give this one to you without the fear of accidentally poison you with too many magical potions. It will help you to sleep with less nightmares."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Dinner had been an easy affair this time and Severus was quite glad about it.

Well, Harry still hadn't eaten as much as he would have wished him to. He still had left food on his plate, not being able to eat all of it. But at least he didn't seem to have any cramps nor did he seem to be ill after eating and the Potions Master was pleased a bit. Harry would learn to eat more.

He knew that the boy had to learn soon, but he would learn.

Soon after dinner Harry retreated into his room and Severus let him go, let him have his time of privacy, hoping the boy would come to him if the cramps should start or if he felt ill or if something should happen.

Harry was sitting on the floor beside the bed as he always did when he was in his room. Yet, exhausted as he was, sleep refused to come. His body was tired but his mind was restless. Too much had happened during the past few days and he still didn't know what exactly those changes meant, where exactly he stood, what exactly he had to expect and how exactly his future would be like.

'_His'_ room.

Never before had he had a room. But the professor had given him one.

Since nearly a week now he hadn't been beaten. Never before had he have such a long time of peace, without a beating. And the professor had promised him he would not do so. Never.

And he had five meals a day without being punished. The professor even wanted him to eat those five meals each day. He even seemed to be disappointed when he didn't manage them. And nevertheless, even if he _was_ disappointed, he didn't beat him.

The older wizard even provided him with potions and such things. He took the time to do the physical exercises every day. He hated them, but he did them anyway just in order to please the professor. The man took the time to do them with him and he didn't want to disappoint him by disobeying with that. Never before had someone cared for him so much.

But …

But, what if …

What if it was a trick?

Or what if he did something wrong, something that would make the professor angry and everything would revert back to the way it had been at Privet Drive?

Reaching behind he tried to reach his back, to scratch at the still healing scars. They itched horribly.

Severus went towards Harry's room and stopped in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed in front of his chest, watching the boy who – as always – sat on the floor. The boy didn't like the door to his room being closed, and considering that he had been forced to live in a small cupboard until a few days ago, it was no wonder that Harry searched for space.

On the other hand - he had found the boy a few times now sleeping under the bed instead of within. And after questioning it, he had learned that sometimes the boy seemed to search small and dark places in order to feel safe, that he felt lost in large spaces. Well, it would have been much easier if he knew when the boy needed the small spaces and when he needed the large places.

And considering that the boy probably hadn't had a bed until now, Severus guessed it was no wonder either that he somehow didn't dare to use his bed, that he always sat on the floor beside it, that he just slept in the bed because he was ordered to.

The boy reached over his shoulder and his left hand wandered underneath the shirt, trying to reach the scars on his back and Severus lifted his eyebrow, entered the room.

The boy's face was a mask of concentration, of pain and fear and he pulled his hand back. Severus easily noticed the small hand trembling before he repeated the movement and the Potions Master guessed Harry knew that it would hurt when he scratched the scars open, that he knew he would pull back bloodied fingers if he scratched the scars open. He knew this kind of situation quite well too.

"Stop it, Harry." Severus gently said, kneeling beside the boy and softly placing his hand onto the thin shoulder, ignoring the startled flinch. "You only would scratch them open and I guess you know it would hurt. They are healing finally."

Startled Harry had pulled his hand back and moved away a few inches, turning so he faced the Potions Master, watching him warily, signing his usual "I am sorry" and Severus sighed.

"There is no need to apologize. You did nothing wrong. It was not my intention to startle you." He said. "Remove your shirt and I will have a look at them. The healing potion will help with the itching."

This time the boy didn't hesitate to obey and pulled the shirt over his head while Severus summoned the healing potion. He just did it slowly, as if he somehow feared a beating as soon as his upper body was bare nevertheless and Severus' dark eyes watched him sadly. "You do not have anything to fear. You have to learn that nothing will happen if I order you to remove your clothing. I just actually have to _see_ your body, or to touch it, so I can do something to help you."

With his usual slow movements when being in the boy's presence Severus opened the vial and began to cover the boy's back with the oily potion, massaging it into the boy's skin. The remaining injuries really were healing well and Severus was pleased. They weren't infected anymore and they all were closed now.

"What were you thinking about when I came in?" He asked.

"Only …" Harry stopped, trying to find the signs for the words he wanted to use and Severus easily could see the frustration running over the boy's face.

"You have all the time you need, Harry." He said, reassuring the boy. "And if you do not find the words, then use others, rephrase it with the words you know."

"Every thing is strange here." The boy signed after a few seconds. "And I don't know why. I don't know what. And I don't know how to handle it."

Severus nodded. He understood well what the boy meant. He wasn't sure if he could allow himself to trust the situation – and him. Within a few days everything had changed for him and he wasn't able to handle the situation.

"And now you do not know if you could allow yourself to place your trust into the situation, and into me." Severus whispered and from the startled tensing of the boy's shoulders he had hit the spot. "I know that this is the only way of thinking you have learned in your life. To never trust anyone. But believe me, there is no need to fear this trust."

Harry didn't answer and Severus didn't press the situation. Not this time. The boy had begun to answer him simple questions, he had begun to freely speak of his thoughts and his feelings, his fears. Even if not to its full extend. But he did. And this thin line of trust, he did not want to destroy it.

"You have taken the potions, correct?" Severus asked while kneading the boy's shoulders.

But Harry shook his head, looking quite guilty. "They only would make me falling asleep." He signed.

"And you do not want to sleep because of the nightmares." Severus stated, not expecting an answer.

He wiped his hands on a towel and closed the vial before he got up to place the healing oil on the desk underneath Harry's window. When he turned he saw the boy watching him with fearful eyes and he noticed that Harry didn't know if he had made him – Severus – angry. The small hands trembled when he signed his usual "I'm sorry" and Severus was at his side in a heartbeat, knelt beside the bed and took Harry's hands in his own.

"Hush." He whispered gently. "It is alright, child. I am not angry with you. I just placed the vial at the desk. We will talk tomorrow about this. Take the potion now and then go to bed. You need your sleep."

A few seconds nothing happened, but then Harry slipped into his shirt and with a miserable look on his face he got up and into his bed. "He will come back when I am alone. He always does." He signed.

For a moment the boy looked so lost and alone that Severus had to grit his teeth in order to not lose his composure in front of Harry again, in order to keep his calm facade. He knew what Harry meant and his anger turned into hate against those damn muggles who had hurt the boy that bad that Dursley not only hunted him during the days but during the nights as well. But he knew he wouldn't do any good to the boy if he lost control over his emotions, if he got angry, if he got sentimental or if he got weak. If he wanted to help Harry, then he should keep his head and in control of the situation.

"You do seem to mistake me, Mr. Potter. You won't be alone with your nightmares. I shall stay until you sleep peacefully if you so wish." He said, reaching the potion towards the boy. Well, he knew, he just couldn't take such a lost look on that small face when he knew he could take it away.

"I don't want … to be a burden." The boy signed after he had emptied the small vial.

"You – are – not." Severus answered, emphasizing every word, sitting onto the edge of the bed, and pulling the blanket up over the boy's shoulders, covering him against the cold dungeon's air. "I am here for you, child. And not only because it is my responsibility, but because I want to." He wrapped his arms around Harry and held the boy against his body, ignoring the child going rigid in his arms.

"Relax, child." He whispered, tightening his grip and bringing the boy closer, leaning his chin on top of the black and unruly hair and stroking his hand along the small shoulders to calm the tense child. "Everything will be alright. You will see. In the end you will be quite fine."

The boy had begun to sob into his robes, small and silent sobs, suppressed and hidden, and the Potions Master shook his head. "You do not have to hide your tears, child." He whispered. "If any child has the right to cry, then it is you. No child should live through what you have been through. And it will not be held against you later. I promise. You will do no good to yourself if you bottle it up in yourself. You have to find a way to release your fear and your pain. And if it is with your tears, then it is alright with me."

He felt the potion finally settle in. The boy's sobbing stopped, the shaking of the small shoulders he held in his arms lessened and the breathing regularized.

At some point during the past few minutes his hand had slipped from the boy's shoulder and now Severus gently was rubbing circles on the small back. Smiling to himself he noticed that a few days ago he would have reacted out of reflex and would have pulled his hand away. But now it nearly seemed a normal gesture. And he noticed that the boy's tense muscles finally had relaxed just a little bit.

He laid the boy back onto the bed but remained seated on the mattress, his warm hand lightly placed onto Harry's back to help the boy feel safe enough to sleep, thinking about how they were going to solve this sleeping problem.

It was quite clear that the boy felt much safer when he was present during his sleep and he felt a painful squeeze in his chest at that realization. The boy – in some strange ways and against all odds – seemed to somehow trust him even if he didn't know it by himself.

But he couldn't sit by the boy's side every night. The boy would have to learn to go to sleep by himself. Gently he carded his fingers through the boy's hair and then tucked the blanket over the thin shoulders before he silently slipped away and back into the living area, pacing the room for a few minutes before he threw a handful of floo powder into the fire, calling the infirmary.

"Would you please come over for a short time, Poppy?" He then asked when the medi-witch came into few. "I need a word with Minerva and I do not want Harry being alone in order he wakes."

"Of course, Severus." Poppy answered. "Make room, I'll come right through."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Poppy had come through immediately and Severus had just nodded his thanks towards her. He knew that she would not be offended by his cold demeanour. She knew him well enough.

Well, he would not have cared either if it had not been Poppy. He never cared if people were offended by his coldness. But he cared deeply for the medi-witch, as deeply as he cared for Albus and for Minerva.

He easily could have talked to Poppy right now. And he was sure Poppy would have understood him, his fears and his unsureness. She even would have been able to give him answers. Nevertheless he also knew it was not Poppy he right now needed to talk to. It was Minerva he needed. The woman who once had fought for him when he had been a child. The woman who once had cared for him when he had been a student himself. The woman who worked together with him as a teacher since more than ten years now, who was about to work together with him in order to heal the boy that lived under his care right now.

So he hastily stalked towards the Gryffindor tower and to Minerva's private quarters, remembering times long ago.

**Flashback**

_He was sitting in the back of the classroom, trying his best to transfigure the fir needle into a sewing needle, using the incantation Professor McGonagall had given them. _

_"Convertere pinetum." He whispered under his breath while he waved his wand, angry at the fact that his fir needle yet gained an eye but did not transform into the sewing needle as it was supposed to do, just when he felt a warm hand lightly touching his shoulder and immediately he tensed, loosing control over his expression before he gained back control over himself and forced his mask to slip back in place. He knew that Professor McGonagall had seen it and he gritted his teeth in frustration. _

_He was weak. And he was pathetic. And he was useless. He was not even able to control himself._

**End flashback**

Minerva had been one of the few people who had seen through his mask. She had been one of the few who had seen a boy that had been mistreated by a father who hated his son for being a wizard. And she had been one of the few who had tried to help him, who had tried to give him some comfort.

As had been Poppy. And Albus. But Albus had done nothing. He had pushed it away, as he now pushed Harry's abuse away.

Poppy had healed his injuries year after year when he came back to school after the summer break.

And Minerva …

**Flashback**

_"Mr. Snape." Professor McGonagall's silent but sharp voice cut through his thoughts just as he tried to slip out of the great hall unnoticed, just after the welcoming feast was over and he turned towards the teacher, automatically tensing up. Of course he knew that the woman wouldn't hurt him. Last year she always had tried to help him__, to talk to him about his home life. About the beatings he got from his father whenever the man was drunk. _

_Of course he never had admitted to her that her guess was right. But he knew that she knew nevertheless._

_And nevertheless he now tensed his shoulders. It was a reaction that was so mechanized that he wasn't able to avoid it._

_"Follow me, please, Mr. Snape." Professor McGonagall said when she reached him and he did as she had ordered him to and followed her when she left the great hall through a side door and then walked towards the Gryffindor tower. He entered her office just a few minutes later, but the professor didn't stop there. She opened a door in the back of the office and held it open, inviting the young Severus to enter._

_"I do know that you already have seen Madam Pomfrey, Mr. Snape, but that you refused to sleep the night in the infirmary." She finally said when he had entered the living area in her private quarters. "But as I guess you would not like to sleep in your dormitory together with the other students of your house either, at least until your body has healed enough and you have rested enough to replace your mask you so often wear so none of them would notice anything, well, take the sofa, Mr. Snape. This way you might be able to allow yourself to relax while healing and resting, away from prying eyes and away from others who you fear might held it against you afterwards. I expect you to be ready for breakfast tomorrow morning by eight and I expect you to be back here by tomorrow evening at eight. You will find the bathroom through the door to your left. If you need anything during the night, I will be through the door beside the bathroom. Do not hesitate to disturb my sleep. Good night, Mr. Snape."_

**End flashback**

Well, this had been something that had repeated itself every year from then on, from his second year up until his seventh year. Yes, even then Minerva had taken him into her quarters the first two or three nights after the new term had started so he had a bit of peace to regain back his strength, his mask and his dignity.

And he always had been thankful towards her for her help. Even back in his seventh year, after he had taken the dark mark.

He was sure that Minerva had known about it back then. And nevertheless she had invited him into her quarters to help him, to give him this bit of peace and rest. Even then, knowing he had joined the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. Even then.

Sighing in frustration over all the mistakes he had done in his life he knocked at the older professor's door when he reached Minerva's quarters for the first time during fourteen years. Yes, it was quite a long time since he had been here the last time.

When the door opened and Minerva saw him standing in the corridor, gazing at her with unsure dark eyes, she at first looked startled, fearing something might had happened, but then, remembering a time fourteen years ago, she smiled and stepped aside, inviting him into her quarters as she had done long years ago.

"Come in, Severus." She said smiling. "You might find the sofa in the same place where it once had been."

Lowering his head in silent greeting and in thanks at the same time Severus stalked into the living area of Minerva's private quarters, noticing that really nothing had changed in here during the past years and he had to fight back memories. Not now! He had more important things to deal with than his memories. He did not take a seat at the sofa but set about nervously pacing her sitting room, muttering randomly under his breath while he wore the carpet out on the floor in his route, arguing with himself and trying to decide what to do.

He couldn't help but admitting that he was scared.

"Would you be able to calm down, Severus, and then you maybe could tell me what has happened?" Minerva suggested, pointing at the sofa. "Or do you fear you could fall asleep at this sofa as you have done every first few nights of the new term during six years?"

For a moment Severus turned towards her, inhaling sharply, but when he looked at the woman his eyes softened so slightly no one would have noticed without knowing what to look for.

"I am walking a tightrope with this boy, Minerva." He finally said, turning back towards the window, gazing over the slowly darkening grounds of Hogwarts.

"I really can imagine, Severus." Minerva walked over to him. She did not place her hand on his shoulder this time, as she had done in a similar situation just fourteen years ago, but she stood beside him, gazing out of the window too. "But I guess you have known this from the beginning, haven't you, Severus?"

"Of course I have known." The Potions Master answered, tensing slightly at the closeness of the woman beside him. "Nevertheless I guess I never will get used to this."

"To handle all those children in your house who are abused at home?" Minerva asked, casting a glance at him out of the corner of her eyes. _'Or the closeness when I step towards you, Severus, when you fear I could touch you?'_ She thought.

Severus nodded. "Yes." He answered.

There were a few minutes of silence between the two teachers before he continued. "It always is the same. They all react similar. They fear me, every movement I make. They fear punishment, being beaten, being screamed at. They even fear moving too much in my presence, or looking into my eyes. And it always is difficult. And it always is like walking on a tightrope. It always is one step forwards and then two steps backwards. And it always makes me sick to the stomach."

Again there was a slight pause before Minerva spoke up.

"I was quite surprised when I watched you handling Mr. Potter, Severus." She said, now turning away from the window and watching her younger colleague. "I know you since twenty-one years now. And you always, even when you have been a young student here at Hogwarts, you always have been a hard and a cold man. Rough, sarcastic and uncaring. At least you always tried to display this mask of yours. But even back then, when you have been a child, it only was a mask."

Turning back towards the window and allowing her gaze to wander over the grounds towards the forbidden forest, she continued. "Do you remember your fifth year? Shortly before the OWLs? Mike Alton had been quite ill. He had been a Gryffindor. You have been a Slytherin. The both of you never have been friends nor have you been close in any other way. I guess in the beginning you didn't even know his name. But one day, when you found him in the toilet, ill with nerves over the OWLs, you made him a potion that would calm his nerves. And you even helped him with potions so he would not fail in this subject. You even then did care, even if you never would admit it."

Severus snorted, lifting his eyebrow in what he hoped was a bored face. Of course he remembered. And he even remembered that he secretly had hoped that Alton and he would become friends. But Alton had been a Gryffindor. He had been a Slytherin. And Slytherins didn't become friends with Gryffindors. But why did Minerva have to remember this?

"I surely never did such a thing, Minerva!" He finally said, causing the older woman to laugh lightly at him.

"Of course not, Severus." She said. "And of course you do not have a calming potion and a pain relieving potion in your robes wherever you go just in order to being able to care for students if there was an accident or something else that caused the need of those. Yes, I have spoken to Poppy yesterday. And yes, you as well have been the subject."

She turned back towards him, gazed at him with a stern look on her face. "You are not able to fool me, Severus. You still blame yourself for all the mistakes you once made and which led to Lily's death. And because of this you do not allow yourself to be comfortable. You still act the spy, a dangerous task with which you risk your life every single time you attend one of those meetings just to work off your depts. Even if they were done years ago, not realizing that they are worked off already. Not allowing yourself to realize this fact. And you take all the disgrace and all the deception the order members place upon you so easily, without complaining. You play the role of the miscreant without complaining. But you are not one. Your heart _is _existent and it is warmer than maybe even you might think."

"You are fooling yourself, Minerva." Severus gave contradictions.

"Maybe, Severus." The woman smiled at him. "Maybe. But maybe not. Fact is, you _do _care. You do care deeply. And I guess you do care deeply especially for Mr. Potter. I do know this since I saw you handling the boy. So, what is the matter with him? Why do you seem to be more upset now than normally? Why does this tightrope seem to be even tighter than it normally is?"

Severus snorted. "You have seen him, Minerva." He said.

"Yes, I did see him, Severus." The Gryffindor head of house answered. "But I guess there is more, isn't there? I of course do know that it will take time with the boy. More time than it normally would. But I guess that isn't all."

"No, it is not." Severus answered sighing. "He still does not eat as he should. He still is loosing strength bit by bit. There is not enough left to keep his level. And I do not know how I could get more food into Potter without him getting ill and either throwing up or cramping. Sometimes I fear it already might be too late to safe him."

"Of course you fear this, Severus." Minerva said, forcing herself to not touch the younger teacher beside her. She long ago had learned that he didn't like being touched. Even now as an adult man he tensed whenever she placed her hand on his arm. He kept every one away from him as far as possible. Just to avoid being touched, befriending someone or to feel love, being loved. "You care for the boy, and the boy is your responsibility now. Of course you fear the worst. I guess Poppy feels the very same thing often enough. But what you fear, Severus, does not automatically has to be the same that really is to be."

"I know." The Potions Master said, sighing heavily. "And nevertheless this fear does not leave me. Even if I know that it is not a rational fear. Even if I know that Potter _is_ safe now."

Again they watched out of the window for a few more minutes. It meanwhile was dark outside and the forbidden forest was just visible as a dark shadow, a silhouette, nothing more.

"He has become more terrified of sleeping every day that passes." Severus finally continued. "If I would not be sitting with him until he sleeps, he would not sleep at all."

Severus placed his hands onto the windowsill and heavily leaned onto the small stony ledge. He was tired of everything. He was tired of having all those children in his house year after year. He was tired of being so helpless at the abuse of those children. He didn't want to feel so useless and the only reason he showed a positive attitude was because Harry needed to have some hope. He had to keep up his strength and he had to be in control of the situation if he wanted to give the boy the feeling of safety.

"I too could sit with him from time to time, Severus. It would allow you to relax a bit, at least sometimes." Minerva offered but Severus shook his head with a soft sigh. What did it matter if he had no reserves left, or if he was at the end of his rope with Harry? What other options did the boy have? Who else, if not him, did Harry have? Who else would take care of him, help him to get over all he had endured in his short life, if not him?

"He would not trust you now, Minerva." He said, his voice low and nearly defeated. "And I do not care the fact that I _have_ to sit with him. I worry over the fact that it is _necessary_ in the first place. I worry over the fact that Potter does neither eat nor sleep as he should do in order to gain back any strength."

"Give him time, Severus." Minerva said, her voice as low as Severus'. "I do know that you are not a patient man. But I know that you _can be_ very patient. You would not be able to handle such a number of abused children as you actually do, if you wouldn't be able to be patient. And you wouldn't be able to act as a spy either, if you weren't able to. So, be patient with Mr. Potter too. The boy needs time, Severus. Time and care. And I know that you will give him both. He needs your strength to strengthen his own strength. That it is what Poppy had meant when she said I would not be able to handle him."

Assuming the boy had any strength left after he got through to him, Severus thought and he felt quite sick.

"I cannot handle this." He muttered, rubbing his eyes. "How am I supposed to give Potter everything he needs? He has not only been verbally abused and he has not just been beaten as the other mistreated children in my house. He had been starved close to death. But he did not only lack of food. Potter had been starved of physical and emotional support his entire life too. How am I supposed to give him this, Minerva, when he even fears that what he needs most? I cannot handle this."

For a moment Minerva wondered how she could combat such hopelessness. But then, smiling a sad smile, she turned and now she really touched the younger teacher, placing her hand onto Severus' arm.

"Every year you came back to school, I could see the tiredness, the exhaustion and the pain in your face, in your entire appearance." She said. "Your entire body screamed abuse. And every year I hated the fact that it did happen. I hated the fact that I wasn't able to do anything against it. And I hated the fact that you had to go back home during the summer break year after year. And sometimes I too thought I would not be able to handle the situation anymore. But every time you came back I knew that I just had to. And every time you came back, I knew that I had a year's time to secretly do what was possible in order to help you, knowing that you never would allow me openly to help you." She sighed. "Yes, you have been quite a handful. As is Mr. Potter. But Mr. Potter has a chance, Severus. You never had one. Just when you had been ready to ease up, Lily began to date with James and you took the dark mark. And then Lily and James married and Harry was born. I know that even back then you still held the contact to Lily. Until You-Know-Who killed her. And that had been your undoing. I noticed the change in you when you came back to Hogwarts then. You have shut yourself away from the world. Never allowing anyone – nor yourself – to comfort you in any way, blaming yourself for her death. Do not allow Mr. Potter to fall onto a similar path. You can change it. I am sure you will find a way to handle this." She added, smiling at him.

Closing his eyes he tried to push back the memories that tried to force themselves into the front of his awareness. He did not need them right now. He had enough to deal with as it was without them.

He remembered that he had promised himself to help Harry get through all of it and he would keep his promise. He always did. It just sometimes seemed to be an impossible task.

"Go to bed, Severus." Minerva finally suggested. "You look tired. Try to sleep a bit and try to regain your strength. The boy needs you and he needs you being strong. Tomorrow evening I will come over and we will go on from there then."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Everyone has a past – and thus every one has memories. But what does they do with them? Would they acknowledge them? Or hide them in a small and dark place? How will they all handle them?_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you

**Meanwhile in Hogwarts - dungeons - Severus Snape's quarters:**

evil minded: ( is sighing heavily )

Severus: What reason do you have to sigh, if I may ask?

evil minded: ( gazing at Severus, blinkingly and in near shock ) hmpf … öhm … well … uhm … you are able to talk to me?

Severus: .oO( how eloquent ) Apparently I am.

evil minded: cool

Severus: ( lifts his eyebrow ) Well?

evil minded: well, you see, there are a lot of readers who place this story on the story alert list without giving one single review

Severus: Yes, I quite can see. They want to read your story without giving their honour to your work.

evil minded: exactly. I mean, I really do not expect a novel but a few words of honour or encouragement really would make me happy

Severus: It surely could not be worse than what you are writing if they wrote a novel about this.

evil minded: hey! that wasn't really nice!

Severus: Who said I ever was nice? I have a reputation to keep up, after all.

evil minded: ( sighing again )

Severus: What reason for do you sigh now?

evil minded: still the same. really, I mean, it only would take a few minutes after reading a new chapter

evil minded: and I would know if they like what I am fabricating here

Severus: Maybe this is the reason why they do not give a review away?

evil minded: how funny …

Severus: Do I look like I made a joke?

evil minded: you better watch your words, Snape, or I easily could destroy your reputation

Severus: You already did. I am not the one you are describing in your story.

evil minded: I could be worse, you know …

Severus: ( lifts his eyebrow again ) Never mess around with an evil bastard and spy on the Dark Lord … You could end up regretting it ...

evil minded: ( sighing again )

Severus: ( looking annoyed ) What do you wish to do about this review-thing?

evil minded: dunno

Severus: .oO( eloquent as always ) Maybe you just should address your readers?

evil minded: and then ? say "hey, if you think this story is good enough to place it onto your story alert list, if you think this story is good enough so you want to continue reading, then I wonder why you do not deem it good enough to give a short review" ?

Severus: Something like this.

evil minded: ( groans ) I will think about it for the next chapter ... nevertheless I thank those who do give their reviews each chapter and are supporting me thus ... thank you, all of you ... especially Steve, Silverstargirl, ams, snapeangel, bookworm, shiftyless, jimmy-barnes, supergirl, allie, querre sainte, DTDY, euphie and nefary - as you all give me a support each chapter ... thank you ...


	17. time to remember

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

Some of you pointed out that my story is a bit long winded or that I have a few loose strings …

Well, yes, you might be quite right and you have my apology for this. But as I plan to take hold on those loose strings on other parts later in the story, well, they just will have to dangle there for a while more.

I have to admit however, that when I am writing, I get lost in the story and then I am writing what exactly I am feeling at that particular moment. I may lose myself in the situations I create. But somehow my heart is in this story and I cannot help myself getting carried away sometimes … I give my apology for this too …

I can promise you that quite a few chapters more will follow and that at some points the story will go on a bit more quickly than up to now. At least, I am curious by myself as to how it will continue. *lol* … yes, I may be the author, but the story has a life of its own.

I just think that the first few chapters are very important. It is important as to how Harry will begin to 'live', as to how Severus will be able to handle the situation even if he begins to wear a little thin, and as to how the both of them will get along.

However ... concerning the mistakes I make. English is not my language by birth, I have to admit. Nevertheless, I still won't take a beta, even if they may spoil my work. I still think you have to break an egg to make an omelette. I will work on my writing abilities with each chapter, and I promise I will do my best. Some might be better than the preview chapters, some might be worse, but at least I can promise you that I never will add a chapter without rereading it and correct as much mistakes as possible. And – well, the mistakes that then still remain, they are mine, I made them, and thus I have to face the wrath of my readers for making them … but they belong to this story as do the pleasant things belong to it ...

**Added Note:**

.oO( … yes … it still is there … )

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question and scrutinize every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_He remembered that he had promised himself to help Harry get through all of it and he would keep his promise. He always did. It just sometimes seemed to be an impossible task._

_"Go to bed, Severus." Minerva finally suggested. "You look tired. Try to sleep a bit and try to regain your strength. The boy needs you and he needs you being strong. Tomorrow evening I will come over and we will go on from there then."_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter seventeen**

**Time to remember**

Severus was sitting in his usual armchair a bit away from the roaring fire. He was not really used to this warmth in his quarters, but he didn't want Harry to be cold. The boy froze much too easily.

Of course he did as thin and as weak as he was. There was nothing on the boy's bones to keep him warm to begin with and his system was working too low as well, he guessed. Just as a snake going into hibernation, he thought with a low chuckle. Maybe he should get the boy a snake. He would try and talk to him later about this, maybe during dinner, before Minerva would come over. At least it would take the boy's mind off the subject of eating. And as his quarters now were much warmer than normal, well, a snake would be comfortable down here.

Unlike the boy.

Even while sitting beside the roaring fire he could see the boy shivering from time to time. As if the warmth of the flames would not warm his bones, his core. And as soon as he was away from the warming fire, then soon afterwards his skin would get cold to the touch.

He had shrunken some of his warmer clothes, trousers and jumpers, and a few shirts so they would fit Harry better than the clothes he had gotten from the Dursleys – and were much more comfortable and orderly without all the holes in them. Well, they probably were the hand me downs from Dudley Dursley. Damn those muggles! They had gotten a monthly payment from the ministry for Harry, but they kept this money for themselves and didn't provide the boy with what he needed, not even with proper food.

Well, they just would have to go to Diagon Alley soon in order to buy Harry some clothes. He just did not know when. He knew that it was too early for the boy to go out shopping where he would have to deal with a lot of strange people. The panic attack would be preassigned.

Maybe he could get Madam Malkin to visit them so she could take the boy's size and then order the clothes from her. He of course would appreciate buying the clothes from Gladrag's Wizardwear. The quality would be better and Gladrag had much more muggle-style clothing than Madam Malkin had. But Gladrag was a male and he guessed that – as the stranger as Gladrag was – Harry would be more afraid of him than of Madam Malkin. Yet – Gladrag had no female clerks in his shop. So in other words, Madam Malkin would just have to do. Maybe he could owl her next week.

He wondered to what extend he should explain the situation to her when he caught Harry asking a question out of his eyes and he pulled himself together and out of his thoughts.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, turning his eyes towards Harry. "I did not pay attention."

"I just wanted to ask … why are you able to read sign language?" The boy asked, his movements unsure and hesitant. And his face too held an expression that clearly showed he felt as unsure and hesitant as the signs he used were and Severus suppressed a sigh.

"I once had a friend, when I was back in school, and this boy was not able to speak either." He answered truthfully, his dark eyes drifting towards a point on the wall beside the fire. "His name was Ethan. And he – as are you – had been able to hear and to understand, but he could not speak. With the knowledge I now have, I wonder if he would have been able if I had tried to get him to speak. I wonder if his disability too was just a mental one and that he would have been able to overcome his fears and his insecurities."

"I'm sorry." Came the sign from the boy and even if Severus again caught it only out of his eyes he recognized it at once.

"There is no need to be." He said. "You might not have been allowed to ask questions with the Dursleys, but you are allowed here. In the contrary. If you want to know something, then I expect you to ask questions. Only thus you can learn. While asking questions if you do not know or understand something. Do you understand?"

The boy nodded and Severus inclined his head.

Of course he knew that the boy had understood his words, Harry was one of the more intelligent children he had met thus far. The speed with which he learned the signs and understood to combine them into sentences showed it. But that had not been what he had meant. Understanding spoken words and accepting them, well, it was quite a difference.

Somehow he knew that he had not offended Harry. Somehow he knew that Harry knew exactly what he had meant. Just as Ethan always had known how his sarcastic comments had been meant. That they had not been meant to offend him.

**Flashback**

_He was sitting at the desk in his room when a knock on the door disrupted his work with the potions essay he was working on. Whoever was outside opened the door a moment later without waiting for his "enter", so he knew it was not a fellow student but a teacher and he got to his feet._

_Of course it was not a fellow student. They never visited him. He had no friends._

_"Good evening, Mr. Snape." Professor Slughorn greeted while he entered the chamber, the headmaster and a strange boy following him. The boy was about twelve or thirteen, Severus noticed out of his eyes while he kept his gaze at his head of house and the headmaster._

_"Good evening, Professor Slughorn. Professor Dumbledore." He greeted back, his stance straight and his arms stiffly held by his side, as always._

_The boy beside the headmaster did not greet back properly. He just inclined his head towards him, keeping his eyes trained on him while his face was turned a bit towards the two professors. He did not look directly at them but somehow Severus got the impression that he tried to notice everything that happened around him at once, that he kept the two adults in the corner of his eyes as he – Severus - always did. The boy even had the same stance as he had. Straight but somehow rigid._

_"Well, Mr. Snape." The headmaster beg__an, his eyes twinkling happily and Severus was calmed somehow. At least he was not in trouble. Not that he could remember the boy, nor doing any harm to him. But somehow a late evening visit from his head of his house and the headmaster, accompanied by a boy, well, it was not a thought that sit well with him. "This here is Mr. Settler. Ethan Settler. He is an exchange student from another wizarding school and as he has been sorted into Slytherin we decided to put him together with you. You are the only student who has a single room as the students in your year are at an odd number. Thus, you have a new roommate."_

_Just great! Severus thought. Really, just great!_

_He had enjoyed his peace and his freedom the past four years. And now, in his fifth year he had to share this peace and freedom with another student. He would go crazy chitchatting with Settler. And besides of this – what would a twelve or thirteen year old boy do in fifth year? He was too young._

_Of course he did not say this to the headmaster. He just inclined his head in silent agreement._

_"Well, Mr. Snape, the problem is, that Mr. Settler is incapable of speaking. He of course can hear you, but he cannot speak. Thus, I expect you to be helpful towards him."_

_Severus lifted a curious eyebrow at this bit of information and for a short moment he cast his gaze towards the boy that would be his roommate for a year. Settler seemed pretty uncomfortable at the headmaster's announcement. He fidgeted nervously with the hem of his sleeves, but otherwise he gave no outward sign. He still stood as straight and as rigid as before and Severus looked back towards the headmaster, not wanting to offend the other one with his stare._

_"Well, Mr. Snape, Mr. Settler, I guess I will leave the two of you to yourselves so you can get to know each other." Professor Slughorn said smiling at both of them. "We will see each other tomorrow morning during potions and then we will see how we will manage classes with your disability. I am sure that Severus will be able to help you with a few things until you have settled in properly."_

_Settler cast his eyes towards Professor Slughorn, inclining his head towards the teacher, but Severus noticed that this time his face was turned a bit into his direction so he still could see him out of the corner of his eyes and again he lifted his eyebrow in curiosity. _

_"Good night, Mr. Snape." Professor Slughorn said, turning. "Mr. Settler."_

_"Good night, Professor Slughorn." Severus answered, nodding towards the teacher and then towards the headmaster. "Professor Dumbledore."_

_Both professors left and when the door was closed he turned towards Settler. The boy still stood where he had been left, looking quite uncomfortable and Severus sighed. Well, he just had to get used to the situation that he now had to share his room with this stranger, if he liked it or not. And well, as Settler was not able to speak, he at least would not drive him crazy while chitchatting._

_"Your part of the room." He said, pointing towards the section of the room where Professor Slughorn had conjured a bed, a desk with a comfortable looking chair, a shelf and a cupboard, while the headmaster had announced the situation. Strangely there was still as much space in the room as had been before and Severus guessed that he had enlarged the room too. At least he still had enough space._

_The boy nodded, pulled his shrunken trunk out of the pocket of his robe and placed it at the foot of his bed, enlarging it with a flick of his wand. Speechless magic. Severus lifted his eyebrow at Settler. He already had wondered how the other boy would cast spells if he was not able to use his voice. But using speechless magic, well, that was advanced magic. And he had not thought a fifth year student to do such. If he was a fifth year at all. Yet – Professor Slughorn had sounded as if._

_"You are in fifth year?" Severus asked while watching Settler getting settled. "You are fifteen?"_

_Settler nodded, casting unsure dark eyes towards him. They were not as dark as his. Not even brown. But neither were they blue or green. Their color was beyond description. It was just impossible to do so._

_"You do not look like being fifteen." He said, watching the other._

_Yet – Settler just shrugged his shoulders and Severus went back to his potions essay._

_When he had finished his homework he placed the quill onto his desk and the scroll of parchment in his book-bag before he cast a quick look towards the other boy, noticing that his hair was as black as his own and just a bit shorter._

_Settler made a few movements with his hands, watching him with a questioning face and Severus again lifted his eyebrow. _

_"I am sorry." He said. "But I cannot read sign language."_

_A look of frustration crossed Settler's face for just a split second, but then he nodded and took a piece of parchment, his quill and ink out of his trunk. He quickly scribbled down some words and then reached the parchment towards him, not coming closer than necessary, just as if he feared him and Severus actually had to reach out as well to take the parchment._

_That could be a funny year, Severus thought frustrated by himself, recognizing that he actually had to read whatever Settler wanted to say to him. Really funny! As if this would have been what he had wanted. He had enough to deal with without such complications. _

_Reading the words he lifted his eyebrow before he watched Settler close. The other nearly seemed to squirm under his gaze and he cast his eyes towards the floor beneath his feet. Out of habit, Severus guessed, he made a single sign which he didn't know what it meant, but from the guilty and uncomfortable look on the other's face he guessed it was some kind of apology. _

_"There is no need to apologize, if I take your sign right." He finally said and Settler's head came up in a startled jerk, indefinable eyes meeting his dark ones. They still were unsure._

_"And for your question, no, I do not mind, Settler. I prefer to sleep with a candle burning by myself."_

_The relieved look on Settler's face was quite priceless and he sighed. Well, he wouldn't help the situation if he made it more difficult. So he kept himself from asking what he was afraid of. And besides – he knew this kind of fear of the dark. Well, at least he had gotten a roommate who would not be offended by the candle he had burning on his nightstand and for a moment he wondered if Professor Slughorn had known about this or if it really was just because he was the one with a single room._

**End flashback**

"You said your friend too could not speak, sir. And that it was a … a thing on the mind." Again Severus just caught the signs out of the eye and he smiled. Yes, it was a few years since he last had been used to this kind of conversation. But he had gotten back into it quite quickly. And now he had no problems understanding Harry.

_'Thank you, __Ethan.'_ He thought.

"Yes, Harry." He said, watching the boy. "Yes. Ethan came to Hogwarts when I was in my fifth year and I shared a room with him. And he too could not speak. And yes, I wonder if it was not something physical but a mental reason."

"You said, if this _too_ was a … thing on the mind." Harry said, pausing before and behind the word 'too' and inclining his head a bit while signing this word and Severus smiled. The boy tried to experiment, tried to punctuate words while signing. Yes, Harry really was one of the more intelligent children he thus far had met. "But what does this mean?"

"It means that I think your disability is not a physical one either. There is nothing wrong with your body. Neither with your laryngeal nor with your vocal cords." Severus explained. "I am sure that it is on your mind. That there just is a blocker in your mind that keeps you from actually using your voice."

Immediately Harry lowered his head and the look on his face changed from curiosity to guilt and embarrassment. He just wanted to say that it wasn't Harry's fault and that there would be no need to feel ashamed when the boy continued, his movements forced and his fingers trembling.

"In other words, I'm stupid." He signed. "Uncle … my uncle had been right after all. I am stupid. I am just too stupid to …"

"Stop!" Severus ordered and immediately the signs stopped. "Do not say it, for it is not true. Your uncle had _not_ been right. You are _not_ stupid. And this kind of disability has nothing to do with stupidity at all."

Sighing heavily and shaking his head he seated himself beside the boy on the sofa, ignoring the flinch and taking the small hands into his own, stilling their trembling with this touch.

"Listen, Harry." He demanded with a soft but stern voice. "You are not stupid. In the contrary. You learned to use sign language during not even two weeks …"

"But I …" Harry pulled his hands out of his grip and tried to disagree.

"No, Harry." Severus grasped the boy's hands back and held them firmly, fixing him with an intent gaze. "You – are – not – stupid!" He said and his voice was as firm and as sever as were his eyes. "There still might be signs which you do not know yet. But even in a year there will be those signs. Even I have not been able to learn every single sign that existed during this year when Ethan was attending Hogwarts. And I had been in my fifth year and had heard of sign language before. But you – you are able to not only form entire sentences with the signs you learned, not even two weeks after you have begun to learn sign language. You too have begun to experiment with the sign language as well, to punctuate words which deem important to you, as I noticed earlier. Nothing every first year student would be able to accomplish."

Watching the boy for a few more moments he was satisfied that Harry did not try to give contradictions this time.

"And to answer your question." Severus continued more relaxed this time. "Your brain is a strange thing, Harry. It has many functions. And one of these functions is that it saves you from overloading your system. You have endured more over the years than most other children. And you have survived. But to ensure your survival, something just has shut down. And this something has been your ability to speak. I at least guess so. Maybe I am wrong, and maybe all the things you survived left you just speechless. Maybe, maybe you just had nothing left to say anymore. Or the things you endured were so unspeakable that you lost every way to speak of it, to speak at all. Or maybe you did not dare to speak anymore because you feared punishment from the Dursleys for asking questions, for speaking or for crying, for screaming. I really do not know what caused you to stop speaking. And it is not really important to me either."

Watching Harry close he wondered if he could dare to tell the boy his theory, if he could dare to tell him that he thought it possible for the boy to relearn speaking.

If he told him so, he could give him hope. And hope was something that the boy needed. More than some other things. He could give Harry a reason to fight. He could give him an aim. Something to work on.

But if he were wrong, then he would give the boy a goal that was out of his reach. And this would not do any good to the boy.

"Does this mean …" Harry began but stopped, not daring to ask the question that was on his mind.

"I do not know, Harry." Severus sighed. "I do not wish to give you hopes that might not come true. But I guess, yes, it _might_ be possible for you to relearn speaking. But mind my words. It _might_ be. It as well might be possible that you won't. I do not know this. And I do not wish you to be disappointed when it would not work. What is the exact reason why I wish you to learn sign language. If you never learn to speak again, then you have at least this way of communication. And – Harry, never forget, I will not mind. Either you will be able to relearn speaking, or you will not be able to. I do not mind. I will take it as it is. I will take you the way you are. It will not make a difference to me. Do you understand?"

Harry slowly nodded, feeling a lump in his throat that made breathing nearly impossible and somehow he had to fight back tears. He was not sure if his Professor was right. Not sure if it was true what he said. Not sure if he really would not mind. He did not know what to think just now. He always had thought that it had been because his uncle choking him sometimes. He had thought that maybe it had been because he was stupid. Or something like this. But now?

The words Professor Snape had told him, the words that he wouldn't mind, they just made him suffocate, they made his chest squeeze. But it was a kind of squeeze that was entirely new to him. He didn't know this kind of feeling. He just knew that it was not that painful and uncomfortable kind of squeeze he normally felt. It seemed to be nearly warm.

But what if there …

Not everyone was able to read sign language.

He was startled when his Professor answered his question which he had not realized that he had signed it.

"That for, you will learn to write." Severus said and he had to suppress a chuckle when he noticed that the boy had not intended to sign his question, that he had done so without realizing it. Well, that was a step forwards. Harry began to trust him enough to lower his ever present self control. He began to trust him enough to word what was going through his mind.

"Let us have dinner." The Potions Master said. "Professor McGonagall will be here in an hour."

Harry nodded. He really did not look forwards to the visit from the stern looking woman. Yet – Professor Snape also was stern looking. Even more. He had a harsh face. And his eyes were harsh too. As was his voice. Sometimes at least. But he knew Professor Snape by now. He did not trust him fully, he knew, but he knew Professor Snape at least by now. Not so Professor McGonagall.

He sighed heavily while following the Potions Master into the small kitchen. He just would have to deal with it. He would survive it. And she could not be worse than aunt Marge when she visited. Now, could she?

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Minerva entered Severus' quarters when he opened the door and after a short greeting the younger teacher pointed towards one of the armchairs beside the lit fire. The boy was sitting at the sofa and she guessed Severus wanted her to keep her space for now as normally she was sitting at the large sofa.

"I see you finally have found a reason to light your fire, Severus." She joked smiling while taking the armchair the head of Slytherin had pointed at. "I always thought it much too cold down here in your dungeon. At last I do not have to bring an extra robe with me anymore."

"You just should have mentioned something, Minerva." Severus said, lifting his eyebrow while watching the boy close for any signs of fear or being uncomfortable. Well, he showed both and the Potions Master sighed. He would have to be extra careful this evening. And maybe he should add a few more drops of the juniper oil into the healing potion tonight. Harry would be stiff to no end and he doubted that he would be able to relax his muscles by himself.

"And have you smirking at me in this way of yours? No, thank you, Severus!" She laughed lightly, causing the younger teacher to lift his eyebrow. "Good evening, Mr. Potter." She then turned towards Harry who cast an unsure and questioning gaze at Severus. He only greeted her back using signs, after the Potions Master nodded towards him.

"I will be back in a minute." Severus said, leaving for the kitchen to get the tea. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Harry stiffen, getting more uncomfortable yet and he sighed. Well, that had to be expected.

Nevertheless …

No, it couldn't be, and shaking his head he placed the teapot on a tray and added three cups.

Minerva followed Severus with her eyes before she turned back towards Harry, watching him for a few seconds. Mr. Potter still was much too pale and much too thin for a boy his age and he really looked tired. But he didn't seem to be in pain anymore as he had been a few days ago. Actually he looked better than the last time she had seen him. And now, afterwards, she wondered why she had not seen the signs by herself during this first transfiguration lesson on September the second. She should have seen them.

"You do look much better, Mr. Potter." She said. "How do you feel?" Again the boy cast his eyes towards the kitchen, a begging, longing look in them, a desperate one. He was looking for Severus, Minerva noticed at once.

"He gets the tea, I guess." She said, jumping startled when the boy flinched at her words.

"Are you sure I will give you – just tea, Minerva?" Severus asked when he re-entered the living area with the tray. He had seen Minerva jumping when the boy had flinched and he tried to ease the situation before it could get out of hands. He didn't want Harry to feel the need to apologize for startling Minerva and he didn't want him to get into a panic attack either. "You _do_ know what a Potions Master could add into your tea, now, do you?" He asked, his eyebrow upraised at the head of Gryffindor house. Really, if Minerva wanted to work with the boy, then maybe she should keep herself under better control. She only would make Harry nervous if she jumped every time the boy flinched. And he would do so in her presence for quite some time further. One could not lose habits that were present for years during a few days. And one could not overcome his fears that were present for years – and with a reason too – within a few days either.

He placed the tray at the table and poured tea into the cups. Adding honey into one, he placed this mug in front of Harry and then seated himself into the other armchair, the one he inhabited since nearly two weeks now. The boy still sat on the sofa, rigid as he had been the first two days down here in the dungeons and Severus sighed inwardly. He should have known.

Minerva took a sip of her tea, only to grimace at once and she cast a disappointed face towards the head of Slytherin.

"I do know, Severus, that Slytherin and Gryffindor have a house rivalry. Yet, I didn't know that this house rivalry has extended towards the teachers as well."

"I beg your pardon, Minerva?" Severus asked innocently. "Might I presume that you do not like this tea?"

"You might call this tea, Severus. I call it poison." Minerva growled, yet, she smiled. "I do hope he does not force you to drink this brewage often, Mr. Potter." She asked Harry.

But instead of giving an answer the boy again cast a helpless questioning gaze towards Severus, as if asking him to answer the question. But the Potions Master only lifted his eyebrow at the boy. "You are allowed to use your hands and give an answer, Mr. Potter." He said. "The same rules that go with me, goes with Professor McGonagall as well. As with every teacher here at Hogwarts."

For a moment Harry cast his eyes down onto his hands, then he threw a quick glance at the Transfiguration Teacher and then he watched the Potions Teacher with a questioning gaze.

Severus nodded while he wondered why Harry was asking permission of him for the slightest things. Well, the boy had been surrounded by no one but him the past few days. He had been the one who had become someone to relay on. But that the boy did so to such an extend, it was a bit unnerving, a bit strange. Yet - he felt quite comfortable with the fact that Harry ...

Could it really be that the boy _did _trust him already?

"I like it." Harry finally signed and Minerva cast a questioning glance at Severus. She wasn't able to read sign language and for a moment the same unsureness that had overcome her in her office earlier, before she had come down here, crept back over her.

How did Severus learn sign language, she wondered for a moment. And again she found a new side on the otherwise so dark and cold man that was Hogwarts' Potions Master. The man was able – and ready – to learn things he needed to handle people with disabilities. Something not every wizard would do as muteness was not a common disability within the wizarding community. Neither were disabilities in general. The most illnesses, diseases, maladies – and disabilities – could be healed with magic in the wizarding world. Even muteness in most of the cases. The only disability that wizarding healers were not able to heal was the disability of doing magic. Squibs could not be healed. They had to learn the hard way, if they were able to learn doing magic at all. And thus – well, squibs were not really welcomed in the wizarding world, they were something like outcasts. They were shunned and looked upon.

As were witches and wizards with other disabilities. So, why should any wizard bother to learn something like sign language? Yet – Severus had done so sometime during his past and her respect for the man that has grown immensely over the past few days grew even more.

"Well, in the contrary to you, Minerva, Mr. Potter just told that he liked the tea." Severus smirked at her.

Minerva shook her head. "Well, maybe I should try and drink it with honey like you do." She said, reaching for the jar containing the sweet and thick substance. "What is it anyway?" She asked. "Anise is in it, I am sure, and melissa, but what else?"

"Herbology and Potions were never your subjects, I see." Severus stated. "I am sure Mr. Potter can answer you this question." He added, watching Harry questioningly. He knew that Harry knew the answer, and that he knew the signs as well. He already had used them over the past few days. He just wanted the boy to partake in the conversation.

But Harry just cast another unsure and questioning gaze at him, a nearly begging one, as if he asked if he really had to and again Severus had to nod encouragingly towards him in order to get the boy giving an answer.

"It is fennel, anise and camomile." He finally answered and Severus nodded, a feeling of pride washing over him.

Minerva watched Severus with blinking her eyes.

Was this a smile her younger colleague tried to suppress? Severus Snape with a smile on his lips? That was just – unheard of! That never happened. And he looked quite – proud too! She blinked again.

Well, maybe not only Severus would be able to help the boy, but maybe the boy could help Severus in return. It was the first time since she knew the tough man that she had seen something like a smile on his face, even if it was a suppressed one. That was just … it was … well, she didn't find words for it.

"Correct, Mr. Potter. It is fennel, anise and camomile. You see, Minerva, no melissa. I suggest you take a course in remedial potions, just to refresh your abilities in this subject." Severus smirked at her.

The evening went on rather uneventful and Minerva was glad for this when she left Severus' quarters one and a half hours later. The boy did not have a panic attack, even if he had been rather uncomfortable. But she had known that he would be. She rather had thought that he might be more uncomfortable than he had given away. But maybe he was as good as hiding such things as Severus always had been.

What had surprised her truly, was the fact that the boy had partook in the conversation at all. That he had been ready to communicate at all. She had feared that he might not do so. But he had, even if he had cast questioning gazes towards Severus whenever he was asked something, as if asking for his permission.

But well, Severus had told her that the boy had not been allowed to ask questions, or to speak, while he was with the Dursleys. What explained his muteness as well. So, of course he tried to ask the person who now cared for him for permission. Again she shook her head at the thought of Severus, caring for a child like Mr. Potter. The world as she knew it somehow seemed to be turned upside down.

But then – she knew that Severus was not the man he made everyone believe, even if he played his part well.

But she knew him since twenty years now …

**Flashback**

_Minerva entered the library in search for one of her students. Mr. Asher had done a quite poor job in transfiguration and she wanted to ask him about the last essay he had handed in this morning as he normally did rather well in this subject and she was quite angry. The boy had slackened in his studies since a few days now she had heard from other teachers and she wanted a word with him. He was in his sixth year after all and next year he would take his NEWTs. _

_And if something was wrong with the boy, then she wanted to know what it was. Mostly there was a solution for everything, but she had to know what was bothering him__ in the first place. And if it were just laziness, well, they would find a way out of this as well. At least every student had such a phase during the years. Mr. Asher wasn't the first one._

_"You can!" She heard a low voice from her left and immediately recognized Mr. Snape and she smiled. At least Mr. Snape did not hide in his room anymore. And he was interacting with other students. She nevertheless would keep an eye on the young Slytherin. This boy too was some kind of a problem child to her, even if he was not in Gryffindor. But Horace just was a bit too lazy when it came to his students. He __favoured those who showed future potential because of their parents were rich or had a name. He favoured those whom he knew would make a quick career so he could ask favours of them later. He quite liked a comfortable life. _

_But Mr. Snape's parents were neither rich nor did they have a name. And as the Slytherin student intended to gain his mastery in Potions, well, this wasn't much of a career either. At least Horace would not need him as he was a Potions Master by himself. Even if not a great one, Minerva thought. From what she had heard – well, Mr. Snape was already better at potions than Horace was, even if her colleague never would admit this._

_"No!" Mr. Asher's voice interrupted her thoughts and she stopped to listen. "I can not! I am just too stupid for …"_

_"You – are – not!" Mr. Snape's voice growled from behind the bookshelf, his voice sounding quite angry. "Do not say it, Asher. Not ever! You are not stupid. You should not believe this just because your father told you so. He is not here, Asher. He cannot harm you here. And he cannot disgrace you here__ either. But you are here, and it is up to you to prove otherwise. Not to your father. And not to me either. Nor to McGonagall. But to you. So just do it!"_

_"But I dropped my standards in each subject this year." Mr. Asher's voice replied softly._

_"Just because you beg__an to believe what your father told you, Asher." Mr. Snape growled, his voice still angry. "Just because you lost faith in yourself. Stop this! And stop it now! You know you can do better, because you have proven so during the past five years. So get a grip on yourself and get your sorry behind back to your former self. Concentrate on what you are capable of instead of what your sorry excuse of a father tells you - and learn!"_

_There was a pause of a few seconds until – "Thanks, Snape."_

_"Forget it, Asher." Mr. Snape growled back. "And now go on with this potions essay. I won't do it for you."_

_Minerva slowly and silently turned and left the library, smiling to herself. As it seemed, Mr. Asher had already gotten help. And again, just as back in fifth year, it was Mr. Snape who was helping a Gryffindor student. Well, last year it had been Mr. Alton whom Mr. Snape had helped during the OWLs. And the boy had done quite well afterwards. And now Mr. Asher. Mr. Snape maybe would make a good teacher after he had gained his mastery in potions. _

_She would keep an eye on both boys nevertheless. On Mr. Asher as well as on Mr. Snape. _

**End flashback**

Why was it always Severus who noticed such signs of abuse? Even back in school it always had been him rather than the teachers who noticed them. And that Mr. Asher had been verbally abused by his father had been quite clear to her after she had overheard the conversation between the two students in the library. And how did he always manage to handle those situations?

Severus had not been kind to Mr. Asher. His words had been harsh and his voice had been angry. There had been absolutely no sympathy in the Slytherin's voice. And nevertheless his words definitely had helped the young Gryffindor. Mr. Asher had improved immensely after this conversation. He had not only gone back to his earlier standards but he had been one of the best in his NEWTs nearly two years later. And she had had the impression that he even had been happy.

And there had been another boy. During Severus' fifth year. She really didn't remember the name, but she knew that there had been an exchange student who was sorted into Slytherin. Severus had been befriend with him and after he had left Hogwarts at the end of his fifth year, well, she had noticed that Severus had become as withdrawn as he always had been. Maybe even more. And she knew that Severus had helped this student as well.

But – yet again – why was it always Severus? And why was he always ready to handle them? And why had she not had thought about this way earlier? Why had she always thought Severus as the dark and cold man that he played to be? Why had she during all those years believed this part he played? Had she been this blind?

She'd had it under her very nose. But she never had seen the real Severus. Only the part of him he allowed her to see. Her and the other order members, or stuff members.

But why, in Merlin's name, did Severus do this to himself? Why, in Merlin's name, did he disgrace himself? It could not be just because he was a spy and had to be careful. And it could not be just because he had a 'reputation' to keep upright. There had to be more.

Every human being did want others to see the good in them, didn't they? So why did Severus create such a negative picture of himself? Shaking her head she climbed up the stairs towards the Gryffindor tower. She didn't understand this man. Severus _was_ a good hearted man. And even if he had committed his crimes, he had paid for them long ago. And he had done them in order to keep his position as a spy and not because he had gained pleasure out of them.

Even she, who never had dealt personally with You-Know-Who, even she knew that one did not say no to this madman. Severus would be dead since long if he had refused to do what You-Know-Who had ordered him to do. And they would have lost all the information he brought over the years. Information that were enough to safe more than a hundredfold of the people he had been forced to kill. And that he had killed, she knew. But she also knew that he never had liked it, and that he always had done so as quickly and as painless as possible. And only then when there had been no other way.

How often had the man come back from one of the meetings, before You-Know-Who had been destroyed, in a shape that was a quite disturbing one? Just because he somehow had found a way to safe one of the madman's victims instead of killing them as being ordered? And then had to face the maniac's wrath and anger? How often had Severus been tortured by the madman for not killing? For not raping? For not torturing?

**Flashback**

_"What in Merlin's name happened, Severus?" Minerva asked while she tried to stop Severus from getting off the floor. The man was in no shape to remain in his quarters, let alone getting up from where he currently lay. He should go to the infirmary. Or better, she should get Poppy down here. He was bleeding from several wounds and the trembling of his limbs was quite disturbing. She often had seen him coming back in a bad shape, but never before had it been this bad. He nearly was unable to breathe._

_"Just forget it and leave, woman!" The young teacher growled darkly, his voice hoarse and rough, disrupted with coughs. It was not really recognizable as the deep and silky voice Severus normally owned. _

_"I will, Severus." She said, her own voice trembling. "But I will come back with Poppy."_

_"You will do no such thing, woman, or you will rue the day you ever met me." Severus threatened and for a moment she was stunned. The man had quite a reputation and most students feared him to their cores. Even some of the other teachers feared him. And his cold and dark, sarcastic comments. _

_But never, absolutely never had he been so …_

_Even with his sarcasm, he always had been a very civil man. _

_"You need proper medical care, Severus!" She tried to argue with him._

_"I need you to go, woman! Now!" Was the reply the man gave and his face went even paler. "And don't you dare to get Pomfrey!" He added while again trying to get up the floor, or somehow to reach his wand and Minerva was sure he was quite ready to hex her if she didn't do as he said._

_"Then at least allow me to help you onto the sofa." She begged but at the daggers he threw at her with his glare, well, she would be dead if eyes could kill._

_"Don't - touch me, woman! Just go!" He again growled in this hoarse and raspy voice that was so unlike him and this time she really left his quarters. Of course she would not leave him laying there on the floor. He could die from all she had witnessed. And even if Severus was an evil bastard, she knew that deep down he was a good man. So she went towards Albus' office. The headmaster would know what to do, and he would be able to handle Severus. Even in such a state. She knew it._

**End Flashback**

Well, yes. This really had been one of the worst conditions Severus had been in after returning from a meeting with You-Know-Who. Yet, it neither had been the first one as she later learned from Albus, nor the last one as she herself had witnessed a few times during the upcoming years. And even after You-Know-Who had been destroyed, even then this madness had not changed. The remaining Death Eaters were as cruel as this maniac had been when it came to torturing their own.

Well, afterwards, after she had informed Albus that he should go and have a look at his Potions Master, after she had gone back towards her own quarters, there had been a short moment in which she thought that Severus had gotten what he deserved for taking the Dark Mark, for becoming a follower of You-Know-Who and for all the crimes he had done from there on.

The boy had been so innocent when still he had been a student, she had thought.

But even then, this thought had disappeared quickly and all that had been left had been shame. She had been ashamed that she'd had those thoughts. She had known Severus long enough that she had known he wasn't this miscreant he displayed to everyone, that somehow there was a good side in his heart. She just hadn't found it anymore.

However, later in the evening she had left her quarters and gone towards Albus' office. She just had had to know if Severus was alright. But Albus had not been there.

She had found him the next morning sitting at the stuff table in the great hall and she had asked him how Severus was. The Potions Master himself had not been present.

It really had not been easy to get any information out of Albus this morning and the headmaster had told her over and over again that it was not his story to tell, but in the end, maybe because Albus had been tired beyond his limits, or maybe because somehow Albus had sensed that Minerva needed to see Severus in a different light, she didn't know, but in the end he had told her what she had wanted to know.

And afterwards she had wished she had not asked at all.

From what Dumbledore had told her, You-Know-Who had ordered his followers to torture a woman, to rape her. And when it had been his turn he had cast a silent killing course on her. As it seemed he had known that she would not have survived anyway and he had spared her further pain and humiliation for only Merlin knew how long by ending the torment.

He had not used the unforgivable killing curse to avoid the green light to be seen, but You-Know-Who had noticed it anyway and the only reason Severus had survived had been that the maniac had thought Severus to be a spy for him on Albus and the order. She then had noticed what a thin line, what a tightrope Severus was walking and from there on their relationship had changed completely.

She still shivered at the thought what exactly this madman and his Death Eaters had done to Severus when he had ended the poor woman's life with his silent curse while she entered her quarters to retire for the night. Afterwards, long afterwards, years later, actually, she had been able to talk with the younger man about those things and she soon had learned that Severus was not only forced to do things he hated, he despised and he even feared, but that he risked his life each time he met with those maniacs. Not only because he could be found out as a spy, but because he could be found out trying to help those victims wherever he could. He indeed walked on a knives edge.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Filius Flitwick went back towards his private chambers, coming from the Ravenclaw common room where he had ensured that the younger students would go to bed in time. It was always the same during the first few weeks. The students tried to overstep their limits and they, the teachers, had to display more control then than later during the school year when the students had gotten used to the daily routine in the castle.

And he hated to display this control. He was a teacher that was not as harsh as Minerva was, and surely not as cold and cruel as Severus was. And for a moment – just when he noticed Minerva coming from the dungeons where she surely had visited Severus, yet again – he wondered why the Gryffindor head of house got along so well with the Slytherin head of house.

And he wondered why Albus had given Severus a position as a teacher here at Hogwarts in the first place. He wondered why, in Merlin's name, Albus allowed this man to work with children. And as a head of a house no less! He did not really understand it.

Well, he surely did not belong to those who feared Severus. But he didn't get along with him either. And truth to be told, he didn't even like him.

Severus was cold and dark, a man with as much rough edges as possible. And he was a traitor.

Well, of course Albus and Minerva said otherwise. But he didn't believe them. The man was a Death Eater. And once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. He might have proven in the past that he stood loyally towards this school, yes. But that didn't mean anything.

He didn't trust Severus, not as far as he could throw him and that surely was not far.

Curiosity overtaking him, he went into the direction Minerva had come from, deeper into the dungeons than he liked. Yet – he somehow felt the momentarily need to find out more and he didn't even spend a thought at his daring while he neared Severus' chambers and stopped in front of the Potions Master's door, wondering for a moment if he should dare to knock or if he just should try to listen. But then, well, he as well could act as a spy, now, couldn't he? And drawing his wand he cast a silent spell onto the door.

A child's sobbing reached his ears and he wondered which poor student had gotten himself into detention and why in Merlin's name Severus was giving detentions in his private chambers.

"Hush, child." He heard Severus' voice and he nearly gasped at the soft and gentle sound. Never ever had he heard the dark man speaking with such a kind voice. "You will be quite well. And yes, you may sleep here on the sofa if this makes you feel better."

Blinking in surprise Filius shook his head. Severus? Allowing a student to sleep on his sofa? That was unheard of and for a moment he wondered if he should go to the headmaster. One surely couldn't know what the man had in his mind. But then, no, he thought. He was being stupid. Severus never would do such.

"No, Harry." He heard Severus' voice continue. So it was Mr. Potter.

Well, he still thought that Mr. Potter better would have been placed in any other house than in Slytherin, but – who was he to question the sorting hat? However, he already had wondered where Mr. Potter was. He had heard rumours, that the boy had been in the infirmary, but no one knew why exactly. And no one had seen him since over a week.

He had not heard the boy speaking, but Severus' voice still was as soft and as gentle as before and Filius even shivered.

"There is nothing you did wrong, child. In the contrary, you did quite well. I guess Minerva did enjoy this visit and you did not offend her while using sign language, even if she didn't understand your words. She knows that this is your only way of articulation."

For a second time Filius nearly gasped. Mr. Potter couldn't speak? That was new to him, no one had told him this. Was that the reason why he didn't attend classes? But Severus didn't teach at the moment too, he remembered.

"Hush, child." Severus' voice continued. "Tomorrow I will begin teaching you how to write if this is what you wish, Harry. But just now I want you to sleep. It was a tiring evening and you need to rest."

The sobbing had stopped now and Filius was blinking in shock. Mr. Potter could not write? An eleven year old boy that could not write? Well, he at least now knew why Severus wasn't teaching his classes at the moment, if he had to give private lessons to Mr. Potter. But why in Merlin's name would Mr. Potter not be able to write? Every eleven year old child could write.

"Just close your eyes, Harry. Close your eyes and think of a clear nightly sky with hundreds of stars above your head. Think of the single signs those stars are forming, just like the picture you had drawn yesterday. Picture them in your mind and allow your thoughts to flow towards them, allow your dreams to become a part of those stars and allow your mind to wander off …"

Severus' voice became lower and lower and Filius ended the spell, turned and left the corridor he had been standing in.

What he had heard didn't quite fit into the picture he had of Severus.

The Potions Master as a kind and caring man? That was just impossible.

But then – there once had been a child. A kind and caring child. A child that always displayed an indifferent and motionless mask. But a child that secretly cared about others, that secretly tried to help others, that secretly tried to comfort others. Just to deny it later if being asked about it, just to pretend it never had happened.

This child had been in Slytherin, and his name had been Severus Snape.

But he had been a child back then. And now he was an adult man. An evil man.

But …

Could it be … was it possible … that this child in reality never had changed? That this child still was there in Severus? That Severus still was this caring person and just still wore this mask over his face?

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Severus promised he would teach Harry how to write and he always kept his promises ... and there was still Dudley Dursley whom Severus promised himself that he would try to somehow change into a better boy ..._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you


	18. a Snape and a Dursley

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

special thanks I wish to express here towards Silverstargirl and Steve who up to now have reviewed every single chapter, there was not one left out … thank you …

and another special thanks goes towards catlady who has given her review to each single chapter during one single night … crazy … really … *smile* …

thanks to your loyally, you three … and thanks to every other one who gave their reviews frequently and thus are honouring my work …

**Added Note:**

.oO( … yes … it still is there … )

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question and scrutinize every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_But he had been a child back then. And now he was an adult man. An evil man._

_But … could it be … was it possible … that this child never had changed? That this child still was there in Severus? That Severus still was this caring person and just still wore this mask over his face?_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter eighteen**

**A Snape and a Dursley**

"You do not have to press the point of your quill onto the parchment with all force, Harry." Severus said, leaning over the boy's shoulder and placing his fingers around the small hand that was holding the quill in a tense manner and even if Severus knew that every child who was learning how to write did this with tense and awkward movements, he nevertheless had to force himself to stay calm and patient. He wasn't used to teach children how to write. They normally were able to do so when they came to Hogwarts.

"Hush child." He whispered when Harry flinched at the soft touch. "You will not be punished for any lack of skill, nor for any mistakes you show during learning. You _are_ learning. And only with time you will accomplish the skill of _what_ you are learning. It takes time and patience. You won't learn it during one day."

He wondered for a second if this would go for the rest of the students as well, but then – no - he dismissed this idea quickly. The rest of those imbeciles didn't want to learn. He would waste his time and his patience while trying to change his teaching habits. It would be fruitless.

He had written the alphabet onto the top of the parchment and then he had told Harry to copy them down underneath his line. What the boy quite did. Well, at least he tried to do so. Yet – the letters were shaky and uneven, bumpy and irregular. But they were – spoken in general – quite recognizable. The boy tried his best, his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on it in concentration and Severus had to suppress the urge to pull the boy's lip out of between his teeth to avoid further mistreatment of this part of the boy's body.

"However, the more you press the tip of your quill onto the parchment, the more ink will leave the quill and your writing will get bold. Added to this, you run danger of piercing the poor parchment. It hasn't done anything to you and you should handle it with respect."

Harry wanted to sign sorry, but Professor Snape still held his right hand that held the quill, so he couldn't and so he just lowered his gaze onto the parchment in front of him. Well, he would make the man angry anyway if he apologized. He soon had learned this one. But it wasn't easy to stop this as he was too much used to apologize for everything.

"There is no need to apologize, child." Severus growled softly, increasing the grip he still had on the boy's hand to stop him from signing. "And now try to relax your fingers that hold the quill. Try to think of … holding something you love, something you never would be able to hurt. Try to think of the quill as a feeling object that would help you to express what you want to say."

Severus felt Harry relaxing his fingers that held the quill underneath his own fingers and he smiled.

"That's it." He whispered. "And now try it again." He said, guiding the boy's hand and the moment Harry had finished the next letter the boy gasped, staring at the 'w' he had written. It seemed perfect and he lifted his head and gazed at the Potions Master in near shock. Again Severus smiled.

"Try it again, alone now, the same letter." He said, releasing the boy's hand and Harry did.

The letter was not as accurate as the one he had written before, while he had guided the boy's hand. But it was finely drawn and not as uneven and irregular as the others in the line above.

"Can I write your name?" Harry signed, but immediately he placed his hands into his lap and lowered his eyes onto his hands. It surely wasn't appropriate to ask his teacher for something like this. He should have thought about it before he had asked this stupid question. Now the man surely would be angry at him.

"Maybe you should write your own name, Harry." Severus suggested, suppressing the urge to sigh at the fear Harry displayed yet again at the question he had asked.

He ignored the startled look on the boy's face when he mentioned that he should write his own name and took the quill out of the boy's hand, wrote 'Harry Potter' onto the parchment and then he gave the quill back while he seated himself beside the boy, watching him with his eyebrow raised in curiosity of what Harry would do.

Casting an unsure gaze towards him Harry slowly dipped the quill into the ink-bottle and after a moment of hesitance he placed the tip of the quill onto the parchment, his fingers as rigid and cramped as they had been before and his face showed something like fear.

Severus placed his hand on the boy's forearm, halting him. "Relax, Harry." He said. "Remember that this quill is the object that will give you a way of expressing your feelings, of expressing what you want to say. This quill will replace your voice as long as it is necessary. And do not be startled by the thought of recognizing your own name."

The boy didn't give a sign away, he didn't even nod to show that he had understood, but Severus nevertheless knew he had when the fingers that held the quill relaxed, writing the words, slowly and carefully. The Potions Master again smiled. The entire name was quite readable.

"What else can I write?" Harry signed after he had stared at the name for a few seconds.

"While combining the letters into words and then the words into sentences, just as you do with the signs to form your sentences, you will be able to write everything you want to write." Severus answered smiling. In the contrary to most of the imbeciles he normally had to teach, Harry _wanted_ to learn. Maybe because he knew that he had to learn in order to compensate his disabilities.

But never mind what reason Harry had, he _wanted_ to learn and thus – well, he, Severus, was quite more patient with the boy than he was while teaching other children. He always enjoyed teaching those who wanted to learn. He just loathed teaching those who showed no interest in learning at all.

"And as you are capable of reading, I am sure you will accomplish this skill quite quickly." Severus continued. "You at least already know how most of the words are written. So you will be able avoid a lot of spelling mistakes. The only thing you have to learn is – how to guide your quill into the words you want to form. Only training it will take you, nothing …"

He stopped abruptly when he looked at the parchment the boy slowly shoved towards him with trembling fingers before he quickly placed his hands back in his lap.

'thank you' The boy had written and Severus stared in shock at the two words.

He had known that the boy was able to read and thus probably knew which letters he needed to write down words. And he knew that the boy was intelligent enough to soon form them, and then to form sentences and thus to express what he actually wanted to say.

But …

It was the first time Harry held a quill in his hand after all. And he had written two readable words just by copying the letters he needed down from above by his own. And even if he didn't use the capital 't', it was written correctly, even the 'th' was used. He blinked. The boy had no experience in actually writing, but he had gotten it the right way just by using the pictures of the words he had memorized. What they had to look like.

Still he stared in shock at the parchment and then at the boy before he smiled again, placing his hand onto the small shoulder.

"I'm sorry." The boy immediately signed, flinching at the touch.

Severus turned the chair so he could face Harry more closely and he placed his hands onto the boy's hands, stilling them. "There is no need to apologize, child." He said. "None at all. You did nothing wrong. In the contrary. You did very well and I am proud of you."

The afraid look in Harry's eyes deepened, turned into a startled one and a second later the boy was up and fled, run into his room and with a sigh Severus got up to follow him.

The boy had not closed the door behind him. He rarely did, and when Severus reached the doorstep he didn't see him but he heard him sobbing. And the sobs came from under the bed.

He closed his eyes while he leaned against the doorframe. He should have known. He had told so Minerva a few days ago. That the boy would be afraid of even praise. Just like now and he pushed himself off the doorframe to enter the room after he had knocked at the wooden frame, receiving no answer.

He crouched down in front of the bed and lowered his head sidewards until he could look under the furniture. "Harry?" He asked, his tone soft and gentle. But he still didn't get an answer and he sighed.

"Move over." He said, laying onto the floor and working his way under the bed, knowingly ignoring the startled look the boy gave him. He was about to invade a place, a space where Harry seemed to feel safe enough to be a shelter from emotionally stress and he knew it. He even thought for a second if he really should do so, if he really should take this place away from the boy. But then, no, he wouldn't take it away. If the boy felt safe down there, then he always would be able to crawl under this bed. He only would show the boy that he didn't mind to crawl under a furniture to reach him, to give him what comfort he could. And he would show the boy that there would be no need to hide. Not from him at least.

"You have it quite comfortable down here." He said in a voice that he hoped was a light but not joking one. He didn't want the boy to think he would laugh at him. "Not too dark and not too large so one could feel lost. Just a bit cramped it is, at least for me." He continued, willing the boy to get comfortable with the situation.

Well, he really wouldn't take this place away from him. But he wanted to show him, that it was ok to lay underneath a bed. Well, sometimes … under particular circumstances … in some … well, whatever in Merlin's name.

Waving his wand he transfigured the underside of the bed into the picture of the night sky the boy had drawn a few days ago and after he had cast a short glance at Harry he waved his wand again and the stars began to twinkle softly.

"I meant what I said, Harry." He whispered softly, the sadness he felt audible in his voice.

"No!" The boy beside him signed, still sobbing.

"I did." Severus confirmed.

"You shouldn't! That is not allowed! No one should! No one! That is …" The boy stopped and curled into himself in his desperation as tight as possible, curling his hands around his head, knowing that it wasn't allowed for him to be loved, to be comforted, knowing that he was disrespectful towards his professor, knowing that a punishment surely was about to happen. Again Severus touched Harry's shoulder, lightly at first and ignoring the violent flinch but then he pulled the boy towards him and curled his arms around the boy's midsection, pulling him into a tight embrace and placing his chin on top of the unruly black hair.

"Hush, child." He whispered. "It is alright. I know that you never have been provided with such sort of assistance. But that does not mean that you do not deserve it. I also know that you fear such kind words because no one ever provided you with them. But that does not mean that I would not feel the way I told you. I _am_ proud of you. For you _did_ very well today. And you had me quite surprised, I have to admit. In a pleasant way. You do not have to fear such. And you do not have to be ashamed because you are praised."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus rushed through the corridor towards his office, his robes billowing behind him like they always did, thinking over the events that had occurred earlier. Harry was sleeping now and Poppy was watching over him.

It had taken him quite a long time to calm the boy he'd held in his arms under the bed and after he finally had been able to pull Harry out from the small place, he had gotten him into bed. The boy had been mentally exhausted and he had fallen asleep after just a few minutes, Severus sitting beside him until his breathing had evened out and the Potions Master was sure that he slept soundly.

And now he was heading towards his office to keep the meeting he had with Dursley, not really knowing how to handle the boy. And the more after what he had had to deal with just an hour ago with Harry. Again he wondered if it really had been a good idea to bring Dursley to Hogwarts, to claim guardianship over him as well.

Maybe he would not be able to keep the anger he felt towards the Dursley away from the boy. Maybe he would be unfair because he would see Harry's abuse whenever he had the young Dursleys in front of him. Maybe he would not be able to separate both subjects. Harry's mistreatment on the first hand and the young Dursley on the other hand.

But, well – it was done. He officially had guardianship over the boy. And he had to deal with it now as good as possible. And that meant, that he had to talk with Dursley in hopes that it wouldn't be fruitless, that the boy would understand. He was a child after all, and he still was young enough to change yet when he was away from his father's influence, when he had someone who guided him.

Entering his office he sighed again, shaking his head. As if he hadn't enough problem children already.

He went towards the cupboard where he kept some of his potions and after he had searched the shelves for a few seconds he got the potions he wanted and grasped three vials. He placed them onto his desk when the knock on the door made him look up.

"Enter." He called. He remained standing behind his desk, his hands held behind his back.

"Good evening, Mr. Dursley. Sit!" He ordered when the young Dursley entered the office and closed the door behind him, pointing at the chair that stood in front of his desk.

The boy sat onto the chair while he murmured an "ev'ning" and Severus lifted his eyebrow, yet – he chose to say nothing. At the moment at least.

"I guess, you do not know what kind of potions these vials are containing, Mr. Dursley?" He asked, placing his hands on the surface of his desk.

The boy shook his head.

"Well, Mr. Dursley." He said, taking one of the small glass containers into his hand and turning it in his fingers, watching the contents to whirl in the vial. "The first one is called veritaserum. Three drops of this one and you would spill your innermost secrets in front of the entire great hall. And believe me, even if the use of this potion on a student is – regrettably – forbidden, I would not hesitate doing so. My hand might just accidentally slip over your morning pumpkin juice. I have done other things of which you wouldn't even dare thinking of. So, you better do not dare lying to me, Mr. Dursley."

Dudley kept his face calm, not wanting to show fear towards this man, but inwardly he cringed. Yes, he knew.

This man not only radiated a kind of power he never before had felt, but this man screamed cruelness and evilness, heartlessness and mercilessness with every movement he made, with every word he said and with every gaze of his black eyes. Even his clothing fitted this picture of him.

Never before had he seen someone with such black eyes. Never before had he seen someone who dressed himself into such dark clothes, closed up, up to under his chin and again he wondered what his future would bring. This man was his guardian now after all. And he was in this one's hands, helpless. He couldn't even contact his father, he didn't know how.

"Well, Mr. Dursley, as I am your guardian now, I guess it is time to get a few things straight." Severus continued, his face still an unmoving mask. He had watched the boy close and he of course had noticed the fear that he tried to hide. Well, a bit of fear wouldn't hurt the boy. He just had to ensure that he didn't inflict too much. It wouldn't do any good if the boy mistrusted him. Yet, he wanted to ensure that the boy knew exactly that he better did not play any stupid games in his presence.

"At first, you might ask yourself if I would be the same towards you, as what your father had been for your cousin." He said, seating himself onto his chair and leaning his arms onto the table, leaning forwards a bit. "And I can assure you, Mr. Dursley, no, I would not. You do not have to fear physical violence from me. I am your guardian and you will be safe with me."

Through the mask Dursley tried to display he could see the relief washing over the boy and he knew that he had been right.

"Now, Mr. Dursley, the first thing I want to address, so we can get this out of the way, is the abuse your cousin had had to endure at the hands of your parents – and at yours." He announced, piercing the boy in front of him with an intense gaze. "You have done wrong and you have to stand for it. What I want to know is - why did you do it? What reason for did you beat your cousin at a regular basis?"

He watched the boy squirm under his intense stare and he knew that he felt uncomfortable beyond anything he probably had experienced up to now, that he desperately tried to find a way out of this. "And you better would not even think of lying to me, Mr. Dursley." He added with a cold glare. "I would know it even before you would have finished your sentence."

Finally Dursley shrugged his shoulders, muttering a "dunno" under his breath.

"That is no answer I would call an appropriate one, Mr. Dursley." Severus said, his eyebrow lifted at the young Dursley. "Not only is the word 'dunno' one I do not like being used in my presence. I prefer complete sentences as an answer and I would prefer it if you would show any respect towards your teacher and guardian. Now, try it again."

"Well, he's strange." Dursley finally said. "He's a freak … sir."

"Because he is a wizard?" Severus asked. He had already known that this answer would come.

"Yes, sir." Dursley answered, remembering how the Potions Master wanted to be addressed.

"Well, Mr. Dursley." Severus' eyes blazed angrily. "Your cousin had been strange in your world. Because he has abilities you and your parents do not have. But here in our world, Mr. Dursley, you are the stranger. Because you lack those abilities we have. Might I be right?"

"Hmm …" Dursley made and Severus watched him with his eyebrow lifted. "Well, I guess."

"You guess, Mr. Dursley." Severus repeated the boy's words. "You guess? Or do you know it?"

"Well, yes." Again Dursley squirmed on the chair. "I guess I know."

Severus sighed in frustration. "You guess you know what, Mr. Dursley?" He asked.

But this time no answer came and the boy looked at the fire that was crackling to his right.

"Let me put it this way, Mr. Dursley," Severus tried again. "If there are fifty people in a room and every one is wearing black, besides of one person who wears blue Jeans and a white shirt. Who is the strange person?"

"The one with the blue Jeans and the white shirt." Dudley answered and Severus nodded.

"Correct." He said. "If now one of the black dressed people leaves the room and enters one where every one is wearing blue Jeans and a white shirt, who is the stranger then?"

"The black dressed one." The boy answered.

"Correct, Mr. Dursley." Severus nodded. "And now, back to my earlier question. While in your world your cousin had been a stranger, who would be the stranger then in your cousin's world?" He asked, watching the boy in front of him. He knew that Dursley had understood his question from the beginning on, that he just did not want to admit the fact that he was right. Because then he also had to admit that he had done wrong.

"I guess, I." The young Dursley answered finally, after a few moments of hesitation.

"You guess? Or you know it?" Severus again wanted to know.

"Well, I'm the stranger here … sir." Came the reply after a few moments.

"Correct. Here, you are the stranger. But that doesn't mean that you are a less valuable person than we are. It just means that you are not like we are. That you are different. But every human being is different to some extend. One chose black clothes, another would choose to wear colourful clothes. One might chose to prove himself in learning different languages, another one might chose to give his effort into handling numbers and math. One might prefer music as his hobby, another one would choose reading while a third one might favour physical exercises. Do you see what I want to say?"

"I guess." Came the reply and Severus had to force himself to stay calm.

"You guess what, Mr. Dursley?" He growled. "I, for example prefer coherent and comprehensive sentences."

"Yes, I guess I know what you mean." The boy finally answered. "No one is the same. Every one is different."

"That is correct, Mr. Dursley." Severus nodded. "Now, as we are quite agreed, that here you are the stranger, I ask you, does this give us automatically the right to abuse you?"

There was no answer for a long time and Severus waited patiently, watching the war that was going on in the boy. On one hand he did not really know what he had to expect here, in a place that his parents taught him over the years was not existent, or evil, whatever. On the other hand the boy knew exactly what Severus wanted to show him and he just didn't want to admit that he was right.

"Well, I'm not sure." He finally said. "I guess not, but I'm not sure."

"Understandable." Severus replied, even if he wanted nothing more than to place the boy over his lap to give him a spanking he would not forget anytime soon. Instead he forced himself to be not only patient but to try and to understand what was going through Dursley's mind as well. "You are here in a wizarding place. And over the years your parents had taught you that magic didn't exist. That being different like we are, would be evil. Your sense of right and wrong might be in place, as you admitted you wouldn't guess it gave us the right to abuse you just because you are different. But you are not sure as this place is as strange to you as are we." He got to his feet and rounded the desk, leaning against the front of the wooden table and crossed his arms over his chest.

"But let me assure you, it does not give us the right to abuse you or to hurt you in any other way." He then explained. "You are a human being just like every one of us. You have your abilities and you have your disabilities just like every one of us have. You might be a muggle, a none magical human being, but you are as human as we are in the first place. And thus, no, it does not give us the right to harm you just because you are different. Do you understand this?"

"Yes, sir." The boy replied and again Severus could see the relief crossing his face while at the same time he showed the discomfort of knowing where this conversation would go to.

"Good." Severus smirked. "And now, Mr. Dursley, I want to know of you – did the fact that your cousin is different than you and your parents, give you or your parents the right to abuse him? To harm him?"

No answer came this time and Severus had known that he wouldn't get one. Nevertheless he fixed the boy with his most intense stare he could master and the boy squirmed on the chair.

"An answer, if you please, Mr. Dursley." He demanded, but still no one came.

"An – answer – Mr. Dursley!" He hissed, leaning forwards to lock his black eyes into the blue ones. "And I won't wait much longer!"

The boy opened his mouth, but nothing came out and he closed it again, averting his eyes.

"An! Answer!" Severus hissed again, placing his hands onto the armrests of the chair Dursley sat in and leaning closer. "Now!"

But still there was none. The boy only cringed away under his closeness, under his stare and from his hissing words, fear now clearly evident in his face, in his features and his breathing was quite much too hasty. Yet, Severus didn't back away. He wanted the boy to answer this question.

"I still – am waiting, Dursley." He growled slowly, his voice still a dangerous low hiss.

"N … n … no." The boy finally stammered, but Severus still didn't back away.

"No – what – Mr. Dursley?" He asked in his still dangerous voice.

But again there was no answer and the boy's trembling increased. For a moment Severus wondered if he should stop here, if he really should push the boy further, but then he growled darkly. His instincts said yes, and he always had trusted his instincts. He always had been right.

"The! Answer!" He thus growled, leaning even closer and the boy stiffened visible. "Now!" He growled darkly. He didn't like doing this. It wasn't meant to show the boy what kind of fear they had inflicted onto Harry. And it wasn't meant to punish him either.

But he wanted the boy to acknowledge that he had done wrong. Only then the boy would understand what he tried to show him, only then he would understand what he wanted to tell him.

"No." The boy gasped a few moments later. "It didn't …" He continued, tears running down his face and his voice was rough and unsteady. "It didn't … give us the … right." He sobbed when Severus lifted his eyebrow at him, trying to get enough air into his lungs and his eyes were fixed onto the Potions Master with a clearly panicked expression in them.

"It didn't give you the right to do what, Mr. Dursley?" Severus asked and his voice still was a low hiss.

"To … to harm …" The boy stammered, the words barely coherent. "To harm … him."

"To harm whom?" Severus demanded.

"To … to harm … Ha … Harry." The boy chocked out and finally Severus backed away, satisfied. He reached towards the desk and took the second vial, uncorking the small glass container and reaching the potion towards the boy.

"A calming potion." He explained. "Drink it!"

The young Dursley slowly shook his head and he didn't take the vial, still watching him with large eyes.

"Take – it!" Severus ordered and finally the boy took the vial.

"Drink – it!" He hissed and Dursley did as he was told and emptied the vial, downed its contents.

Severus waited until the effects of the potion had taken place and then he leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms over his chest, watching the boy calming down.

"Do you recognize what exactly I wanted to tell you, Mr. Dursley?" He then asked, his voice back to normal and he could see the relief in the boy's eyes.

"Yes, sir." Came the small answer.

"Good, Mr. Dursley. Then I expect you to write two scrolls of parchment on _why_ it was wrong what you did – you, not your parents as you are not responsible for their actions – and on _why_ you did it nevertheless. I expect a reasonable essay, Mr. Dursley, and on my desk by Friday afternoon this week."

Dursley junior nodded, not trusting his voice yet as it seemed and for once Severus didn't push him into a verbal answer. He waited a few moments to allow the knowledge to sink in before he continued.

"Do you know what your actions caused, Mr. Dursley?" He then asked and the boy in front of him shook his head.

Severus just lifted his eyebrow and immediately Dursley answered with a low "no, sir".

The Potions Master nodded and a moment later he went back behind his desk, pulling one of the drawers open and he took out a folder he had placed there earlier that day after the first year's potions class with the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs this morning.

"This is the medical report from your cousin." He said, opening the folder and shoving the first picture towards the young Dursley. It was the picture with Harry's back that was covered in bloody cuts and he watched the boy in front of him close. Of course Dursley had seen those cuts already. Had even caused a few of them himself as he had seen in Harry's memory. But he knew that it was one thing seeing such in the heat of the moment where it was caused, but that it was another thing seeing such later when reason had taken over.

"Well, Mr. Dursley, do you recognize who that is?" He asked, his eyes cold and he had to grit his teeth at the memory of the night when he had tented to those injuries. That was it, what he had meant earlier. He wasn't sure if he would be able to shove the anger he felt at the Dursleys whenever he thought of the abuse the boy he had become to love had had to endure into the background of his mind and to handle the young Dursley with fair intentions.

"It's … it's Harry." The young Dursley answered, gulping.

"Correct." Severus drawled, shoving another picture towards the boy, one in which Harry's starved appearance was clearly visible. "I guess you do know what exactly this picture means, Mr. Dursley?" He asked. He didn't want to do this. He felt as if he mistreated Harry's privacy and the little trust he had begun to show towards him. And all the anger he felt towards the Dursleys came back again while he saw those pictures. But the Dursley boy needed to know what exactly their actions had caused. He needed to understand.

Dursley shrugged his shoulders at him, but his eyes didn't leave the picture and Severus could see something that was akin to horror on his face while he again gulped.

"An answer, Mr. Dursley. I do want an answer from you, and I do want a verbal one." He hissed, his cold eyes piercing the boy.

"Well." Dursley slowly begun. "Well, I guess … it means … that … Harry had been hungry."

"An understatement, Mr. Dursley, but yes, correct. Your cousin had been about to _die_ of hunger when he first came to Hogwarts." He answered. "Do you know what hunger feels like?" He then asked. Of course this boy didn't know what it felt like being hungry and surely not being hungry to such an extent. Yet, he just had to ask this question.

"No, sir." He answered, lowering his eyes away from the picture.

"Of course not." Severus drawled. "I do know what it feels like. And thus I do know what Harry felt. During months, during years. And it makes me angry beyond reason that anyone would do such to a child. And just because this child was different. No child deserves such! Being beaten and being starved! Absolutely no child, no matter if he is different or not!" He growled darkly. "Would you like to be handled thus, Mr. Dursley?" He asked. "Just because you were different? What would you do, what would you feel if this child in the pictures were you?"

"I don't know, sir." The boy answered, the words nothing more than a whisper.

Sighing in frustration Severus took the pictures and placed the folder aside. Of course Dursley didn't know. He never had felt such. He never had been in this place.

He was tired and he wanted to end this conversation. Running his hand over his face he closed his eyes for a moment and then looked back at the boy in front of him.

"Of course you do not know as you never have been in this kind of situation." Severus growled darkly. "Where your parents denied your cousin even food, there they have provided you with too much. But know, that your cousin _really _had been close to death when he came to Hogwarts. And it doesn't end there. Your cousin has to learn a few things now in order to survive further. He has to relearn eating. As strange as it might sound to you, but yes, your cousin actually has to relearn eating. And believe me, that is not a pleasant task."

The Dursley boy watched him blinkingly. Well, as he was used to eating tons of food, he of course could not imagine that for a starved child relearning to eat was not pleasant.

"Believe me, it is not, Mr. Dursley." Severus said. "As your cousin will have to get used to such small things as food. Not to mention that he fears eating in the first place what not only complicates this task for your cousin, but for me as well as I am the one who has to get him used to eating. And believe me, I am not pleased with _this _fact. Nevertheless, he also has to learn how to sleep properly. Sleep is a very important thing, and the more important to an ill child. Yet - as your cousin had not been allowed to have enough sleep, and as his sleep often is disrupted with nightmares of the abuse he'd had to endure, it is nearly impossible for him to get enough sleep. Thus, he has to relearn sleeping. And here again, as he actually fears sleep, it complicates this task for your cousin as well. And for me, as I am the one who has to ensure that he gets enough sleep. And again, I am not pleased with this little fact."

The boy in front of him had the grace to look guilty and Severus' gaze darkened. "He has to learn to trust. And he has to relearn speaking one day, if this even will be possible. Not to mention the physical treatment he still needs. And even with this physical treatment he receives, we are not sure of the secondary damage that will be follow, caused by the abuse he'd had to endure in the household of your parents. Do you understand what I try to tell you, Mr. Dursley?"

"That you are angry at me." The boy murmured.

"Spoken in general, no. I am angry at your parents in the first place. But to some extent, yes, I am angry at you too." The Potions Master answered. "You did not cause his near death. Your parents did this. You - _only _- beat him. The most damage to your cousin had been done by your father and by your mother. But I am angry at you because you partook in this madness. You are an eleven year old boy, Mr. Dursley. A young man that is old enough to know what is right and what is wrong in the first place. You are old enough so that you could have said no."

"But … but …" The young Dursley stopped and averted his eyes.

"Yes, Mr. Dursley?" Severus asked.

"Nothing, sir." Came the answer and the boy still didn't look at him.

"I guessed as much." The Potions Master said. "You know by yourself that you have done wrong. I just wanted you to acknowledge it."

"But I didn't starve Harry." The boy whispered. "I swear." Severus sighed.

"No, you didn't, Mr. Dursley." He said. "But you did not help your cousin either. You easily could have brought him something to eat from time to time."

"Sorry." The boy murmured and again Severus sighed.

"You do not have to apologize towards me." He said. "You rather should apologize to your _cousin_."

He wasn't sure that the boy in front of him had seen reason yet. He of course had understood what he had tried to tell him. And he seemed to regret his actions. At _this precise_ moment at least. But would it last? The boy had learned by his father to bully others and he had done so for years. One single conversation surely could not change this. Again he sighed when he recognized that this would not be the last conversation he would have with him. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, watching the boy in front of him.

"However, as this is not a possibility at the moment, you will have enough time to think of an appropriate apology towards your cousin." He said and Dursley nodded before he looked up, a questioning gaze in his eyes.

"But why isn't it possible?" He asked. "He's here, isn't he?"

"Yes, your cousin is here." Severus answered. "But as the abuse has caused too much damage to his body _and _- to his mind, he is in no state of handling the situation of seeing one of his abusers. Wouldn't you think so, Mr. Dursley?"

"Yes, I guess." Dursley murmured, lowering his eyes.

Once more Severus ran his hand over his face, sighing in frustration.

Well, there was another subject he wanted to cover today. The boy was a muggle attending a wizarding school after all. He took hold of the third potion he had taken out of his cupboard earlier.

"Now, as you are not a wizard, but attending a wizarding school, Mr. Dursley, and one that is not only a common secondary school but a well established academic institution, I expect you to do your best in your education in those subjects which you will be able to be present at." He said, his voice in his teaching mode now. "And that includes potions. Especially Potions, as I am the Potions Master here at Hogwarts."

He reached the vial towards the boy and Dursley took it after a second of suspicious hesitation.

"This is a simple and harmless potion." Severus explained. "I want you to find out which one exactly it is, what it does and how it is brewed. You may use your potions book, the index in the back of your potions book. You may recognize it by the color, by its consistence, by how it feels when having contact to your skin, by how it smells and by how it tastes. Yes, you may even consume it, it won't do you any harm." He added at the startled look the boy gave him.

"I expect you to write an essay on what it does, why it was initiated in the first place and how it is brewed. Two scrolls of parchment, handed in on Friday afternoon together with your other essay I assigned to you earlier."

He waited until Dursley nodded at him before he continued.

"Furthermore, as I am your guardian from now on, you will meet me not only during potions classes and during the meetings of the first years every Saturday morning, but you will meet me in my office every Friday afternoon at three o'clock sharp for a private conversation. This meetings will not only help you to get adjusted to the situation, but it will help you also with your future life in the wizarding world from now on and with your education. And it will help you to see the world in a different way than what you have been taught by your parents up to now."

For a moment he saw anger cross the boy's face by the mentioning at his parents, but it disappeared as soon as it had appeared and then Dursley nodded.

"Additionally, as your guardian, I will provide you with what you need." Severus continued. "Thus, if you need anything, then I expect you to address me. I then will decide if you really _do _need it and if you do, then you will get it. That includes food due to your diet that is prepared for you down in the kitchens, clothes, and any school supplies. Furthermore you will get a weekly allowance which you may spend as you wish. Important to say is, Mr. Dursley, that you actually have to work for your allowance - in form of learning. I expect you to do well in your classes. If you do, then you will get your weekly allowance. If you show laziness in your studies, then I will withhold it for the time being to be given when you showed that you have earned it. Did you understand this?"

"Yes, sir." Dudley Dursley answered.

"Good." Severus said. "Any questions?"

"No, sir." The boy answered.

"Well, then you may be dismissed. I expect you to be at time on Thursday afternoon for potions." Severus stated. "Good evening, Mr. Dursley."

The boy turned and began to leave when Severus called him back once again.

"And, Mr. Dursley –" He said and the boy turned back towards him. "I _do_ hope that I made myself very clear earlier. I _do_ hope that you realize that any bullying you show towards other students will get you a severe punishment."

"Yes, sir." Dursley answered and after Severus had nodded towards him he left the office quickly before he could call him back again.

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When the boy had left his office Severus slumped in his chair and he ran his hand over his face, sighing heavily.

That had not been an easy conversation and he wasn't sure if he had done it rightly.

Maybe he should not have handled the younger Dursley as hard as he had. The boy wasn't responsible for what his parents had done. Nor for what his father had been teaching him during the years. The only ones to blame in reality were the boy's parents.

But on the other hand, Dudley Dursley _was_ old enough to choose between right and wrong. And he was old enough to know _what_ _was_ right and _what _was wrong. And harming his cousin, drawing blood in the act, definitely _was_ wrong, and the boy was old enough to know this.

And he had needed the boy to acknowledge it as what it was. He'd had to show him how dangerous it had been what Harry had endured during the years. Only thus he could ensure that Dursley wouldn't do such to anyone ever again. He had needed the boy to accept the fact that he had done something terribly wrong.

And really – if it had been one of his snakes, he wouldn't have given an essay only. That one was for sure.

Well, and then there was the fact that Harry would have to go back to classes at one point.

And when that happened, then he would meet his cousin, then he would meet one of his abusers. And he didn't know how the boy would react. He surely would have a breakdown if he didn't prepare him for this. But how _could_ he prepare the boy for such? There was absolutely no way Harry would take this information well and he would have to be very careful. Not only by what he would say to the boy then, but by choosing the time he would bring this up as well.

Again he shook his head. This all surely was one of the most difficult situations he ever had been in since he was a teacher.

A soft knock on his door startled him out of his thoughts and he wondered who in Merlin's name would visit him now. He didn't await anyone. Nor was it a knock he recognized. It was soft and hesitant and thus neither Albus nor Minerva. But it wasn't as hesitant that it could be considered as fearful and thus surely no student below fourth or fifth year.

"Enter!" He called out and lifted his eyebrow at the opening of the door. When he saw his visitor, he lifted his eyebrow even higher with curiosity.

"Good afternoon, Filius." He greeted the Charms Teacher. Why had Filius to visit him just now? He never visited him, he neither liked him nor did he trust him, he knew this one. So why did he visit him now? When he was tired and needed to go back to Harry? After a difficult conversation with one of his students?

"Good afternoon, Severus, may I come in for a moment?" Filius asked and sighing silently Severus nodded.

"How may I help you, Filius?" He asked, watching the small man close. Filius cast a strange look towards him. One that he didn't really like. As if he would study him somehow.

"Well, Severus." He began. "I wondered if you could tell me what happened with Mr. Potter. He wasn't seen since the second day of term. Some say he had been in the hospital wing, but no one knows why. And he is in your house after all."

Frowning Severus pointed towards the chair Dursley had occupied until a few minutes ago and he wondered why Filius wanted to know this bit of information from him. He never had been interested in one of his students. With a considering gaze he watched the small teacher while he wondered if he should answer the question and if he did, to what extend he should do so.

He sighed before he leaned back in his chair.

Filius Flitwick sat opposite the Potions Master and he wondered why Severus looked so tired. And so distressed somehow. He had met the Dursley boy on his way to Severus' office. He knew it was the Dursley boy as Albus had introduced him during dinner the fourth day. Yet, the boy did not take his classes and he wondered why. It wasn't quite common to skip a class like charms. It was a required subject.

Well, and it wasn't quite like Severus to display his emotions.

"Well, Filius." Severus finally began. "I am sure you will understand that I cannot tell you everything as I do not wish to invade Mr. Potter's privacy. But at least I can tell you what you would learn anyway as soon as he will be able to go back to classes." He paused for a moment, watching his colleague while he thought about where to begin.

"Well, Mr. Potter had been abused by his relatives. Over years. And thus momentarily he is in no shape to attend his classes. Neither is he able to speak, nor is he able to write and at the present time I am about to teach him how to use sign language as well as how to use written words so he actually might be able to not only follow classes but to partake in them as well."

"Oh." Filius made and he cast a nearly shocked gaze at the Potions Teacher. He hadn't known this. Well, he had known that Mr. Potter wasn't able to speak or to write. He had learned so the night before when he had listened at Severus' door. But he had not known that the boy had been abused. "And how is he coping?" He asked.

"As Mr. Potter momentarily resides in my quarters, we have enough time to deal with his learnings. But as he still is weak and easily exhausted, you surely can imagine that it is not an easy task for him. Nevertheless he does well. In learning how to use sign language as well as in learning how to write. He actually is an intelligent child and he wants to learn."

"He resides in your rooms?" Filius asked. "But why?"

"Mr. Potter has been abused, Filius." Severus growled darkly. "And in a most cruelly way, I might add. He needs rest and he needs his freedom, he needs peace. Neither can he find in the infirmary that is not off limits for other students. And he needs someone who does not shy away from getting an abused child to cope with the situation, with things that are necessary but which he does fear. And as I am known as a cold hearted bastard, I do not shy away from such."

Filius didn't give him an answer, yet, he hadn't expected one either.

"Well." The small teacher cleared his throat. Severus? Knowing about such things? About children in need? And how to handle them? And to care for them? "Well, and how is he?" He finally managed to ask. He was not really able to imagine Severus without his cold demeanor and without his dark appearance. The man was a Death Eater after all. And they all were cruel criminals. Often enough his Ravenclaws complained about Severus.

"As I said, he still is weak." The Potions Master said. "And he still needs proper care and potions. He tires easily and there is quite a lot of secondary damage due to the abuse that has to be minimized yet as best as possible. Physically as well as emotionally. I am sure I do not need to tell you what exactly those damages are, Filius. Suffice to say is, he is recovering, but he still is not ready to attend classes now."

Again there was a pause, a long one this time and Severus wished that Filius would just go so he could go back to Harry, have a look at him, then maybe sit into his armchair, and rest a bit. He really was tired. He was tired beyond what he normally felt when he had one of his Slytherins under his care.

"Well, Severus." The Charms Professor said, looking quite uncomfortable. Severus - able to care for an abused child! And he seemed to know what he was talking of, mentioning the mental side of it. Well, maybe Albus had not been _that_ wrong to appoint him the position as a teacher. "I know that we do not get along very well. But, well, you really look tired. And I thought, well, maybe I could offer you any help?"

Severus sighed. Gladly he would accept Filius' help.

Well, yes, of course they didn't get along. But nevertheless he knew that Filius was a capable teacher and that he wasn't a head of house without a reason. But the boy didn't know him now. He only would fear him.

"Thank you for your offer, Filius." He finally sighed. "And be assured, I gladly would accept it as – yes, I am tired. An abused child is not easy to handle. What is the exact reason why I have to decline. No offence, Filius, but the boy would only fear you. You would have a full blown panic attack at hand the moment you would enter my quarters and address the boy."

"That bad?" The smaller teacher asked and his face showed sympathy.

"Regrettably, yes." Severus said. "I do have Minerva to help me with the boy, as he has to redo four years of primary school during a short time so he will be able to follow classes as soon he will attend them and I surely would not manage this alone. But momentarily we are just about to get him used to her. We won't be able to get him used to a third person at the present time. It would be too much for him."

"So I guess he didn't attend primary school at all?" Filius asked, his voice startled.

"No, he didn't. His relatives tried to hide the abuse and thus didn't send him to school at all." Severus answered.

"I begin to understand." Filius growled. Just then he cast a curious gaze at him. "Well, Severus. My offer stands. As soon as the boy would be able to get used to another person, I am ready to help."

"I would be glad to take your offer at a later time." Severus said and smiled at him, tiredly, and the smaller teacher nearly fell off the stool in shock.

Severus smiling?

Well, it wasn't a real smile. Rather as if the Potions Master tried to curl his lips upwards without knowing how to do so, without having any practice in this area of movement for his facial muscles. But it seemed to be meant as a smile and Filius took it as that. Yet - he never had seen the man without a scowl on his face. And now he smiled!

Quickly, as if he feared the Potions Master could change his mind and growl at him he jumped off the chair. "In this case, I will be ready as soon as you address me, Severus." He said, turning towards the door. He hesitated for a moment. "And … well, I would be glad to help." He added and then he finally left the office, silently closing the door behind him.

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Let me just say, you will not like the next chapter, I am sure of this. And nevertheless, I think it is an important one. And as my heart is in this story, I will add it regardless if you like it or not. I hope you will not lynch me for this later._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you

**Help ...**

ok, here I am now, not knowing what to do …

I thought it through, over and over again, for weeks now, but without any success …

On one hand Dudley now, after the conversion with Severus, has the chance to change. He has the chance to think things over and to see that he indeed has done wrong and he has the chance to try and make it up somehow. That would mean that maybe I could make Severus taking Dudley in as well. It definitely could be interesting.

On the other hand, as Draco already had thought about Harry and will be befriend with him, Dudley would make the ideal counterpart, what I originally have planned. You see, as Slytherins stuck together, Harry will have the support of his house, of course, but without someone who works against him, this surely would be – well – boring … somehow …

However, both possibilities are attractive in one or another way. So – there is nothing else left than to ask you …

What would you wish? What do you think?


	19. a lesson is learned

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

I as well have to say a special thanks to Taylor who has reviewed every single chapter during one night. Thank you, Taylor for your great honour of my work.

And … well … as I announced at the end of the last chapter, I am sure that most of you will not like this chapter and that I will gain quite a lot of not so pleasant reviews as Severus will be extremely cruel in this one towards Harry. I am sure that most of you will lynch me for this and think that I am evil – what I quite am – but I will place it here nevertheless. If you do not like it, so do not read it.

**Added Note:**

.oO( … yes … it still is there … )

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question and scrutinize every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Quickly, as if he feared the Potions Master could change his mind and growl at him Filius jumped off the chair. "In this case, I will be ready as soon as you address me, Severus." He said, turning towards the door. He hesitated for a moment. "And … well, I would be glad to help." He added and then he finally left the office, silently closing the door behind him._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter nineteen**

**A lesson is learned**

Minerva McGonagall was sitting in Severus' living room with a cup of tea in front of her. It was her fourth visit during the past two weeks and she was quite comfortable with the young Mr. Potter. They had decided that she would come over twice a week and she had to admit that she was amazed at the boy. During not even three weeks now he had learned to communicate with signs, at least thus far that he could give slight answers, that he was able to say what he needed. Even if she clearly saw that it was far away from a real conversation and that the boy was far from being ready to communicate much at all.

Well, and she had to admit also, that she was quite glad the boy was so hesitant and slow with his answers. She would not be able to understand him at all would he be quicker. Even as slow as he was, she always had to use the book Severus had given her after she was back in her quarters to have a look at some of the signs the boy had used earlier. She still didn't understand all of them.

Yet – it was a start, it was more, much more, than she had considered possible and she knew that Severus had done a great job. During her last visit she had even seen a small smile washing over Harry's face, as quickly as it had been vanished, but it had been there. What disturbed her was that his hands still trembled, sometimes slightly, sometimes violently, but they still trembled, never mind what. It somehow reminded her at Severus during the times when You-Know-Who had been there. When Severus came back from a summoning. His hands had been shaking for days then from the nerve damage the cruciatus caused. Could it be nerve damage that the boy's hands still shook that bad? Surely Severus would know this?

Sighing she placed a cup of tea at the table in front of the boy. "Please drink your tea, Mr. Potter." She said. "Today I made a peppermint tea. I am sure you are quite tired of anise, camomile and fennel." Of course she could have given him the cup into his hands. But Severus had insisted that she placed it at the table so the boy actually had to take it by himself.

The first time she had offered him a cup of tea, he had refused to take it from her, had nearly ended in a panic attack, whereupon she herself had felt helpless and close to tears, until Severus had explained that she was not his head of house and that Potter just did not know what to do, that he just did not dare to take it out of fear he would be punished.

During that particular afternoon they had been sitting at the table and after Severus had given the cup to the boy, they had discussed teachers in general, and that Harry could take food and drinking from every teacher within Hogwarts. That, of course Severus was his head of house, but that Minerva as well was a head of a house, of Gryffindor, and that she was the deputy headmistress and therefore as responsible for the students as was he, Severus. That she as well would never hurt a student, that she would not only teach him in transfiguration but in speechless magic, in history and in geography as well and that it was important that he followed her orders.

In the end she had been able to offer him a cup of tea which the boy actually took, even if he cast a quick and unsure glance at Severus, asking him for permission until the Potions Master had nodded. It had been a start at least.

"Did Professor Snape or Madam Pomfrey say when you could begin with your lessons, Mr. Potter?" Minerva asked the boy and Harry shook his head.

"Well, then we just have to wait. And besides of this, you still have something to learn. You are doing quite well with your sign language."

"Thank you, Professor." Harry signed but at the same time shook his head. There still were so many words he did not know. Actually there were just a _few_ words he knew meanwhile, he thought, taking the cup from the table. Yet, today his hands trembled more than the previous days, especially just now that Professor Snape was not here.

Professor Snape was a strict teacher, Harry soon had learned. He had clear expectations and he expected them to be accomplished. And he expected them to be accomplished as quickly as possible and as good as possible. He considered manners and respect important and he was ever watchful. Nothing escaped his sharp eyes. He always seemed to know what Harry was thinking and he addressed it. He allowed no hiding and no sidesteps. But somehow this assured Harry. It gave him a feeling of safety and now that Professor Snape was not here, he felt quite helpless. Alone, unsure and helpless. Not safe.

And the cup just slipped out of his hands and fell to the floor, shattering in pieces.

After a second of silent horror he crouched on the floor and picked up the shards, but a loud yell of "Mr. Potter!" from Professor McGonagall startled him and he froze.

A tremor ran through Harry's entire body. "Forgive me." He signed, his entire body language begging. "I am sorry." And without moving an inch he kept kneeling at the floor.

"No harm done, Mr. Potter, it was only a cup." Professor McGonagall said, waving her wand and with a "scurgify" the mess vanished, with a "cyatus reparo" the cup repaired itself and flew with an "accio cyatus" into her hand. "Did you hurt yourself, Mr. Potter? When you picked up the shards?" She asked while she placed the cup back at the table.

For a split second he actually had to look at his hands, as if to ensure that there was no cut, no blood running down his fingers, but then he shook his head. No, he was not hurt.

"Good, Mr. Potter." Minerva said. "A cup we can repair without any problems, but an injury is not as easy to heal. Not in your case at least. It is absolutely not necessary. Next time just leave the shards."

She saw the boy nodding, yet his eyes were still cast at the floor in front of him where he still knelt, his head lowered and his shoulders slumped. He looked helpless and Minerva sighed, taking a step towards the boy and kneeling in front of him. She knew better than to touch him, at least not when Severus was not present to calm him should he get into a panic attack. She began to understand why Severus had insisted that Mr. Potter shouldn't go to her office for his lessons anytime soon, why he had asked her to hold them down in his quarters and she was quite glad about it.

Severus had left an hour ago, promising he would be back in two hours, that he would be in his classroom to hold the potions lesson with the first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and now she was alone with the boy for the first time.

"Now, Mr. Potter." She said and she had to force herself to stay calm when the boy in front of her flinched. "As I said, no harm is done. Why don't you sit back at the sofa and I will pour you another cup of tea?"

Well, Harry had obeyed her, sat back at the sofa, but he had refused to take the cup again and Minerva had not the heart to force him to. She just kept talking to the boy, even if she got no further answer out of him.

"You are very quiet, Harry." She finally asked. "Are you well? Do you need anything?"

Harry briefly glanced into her direction with a fearful gaze and with slow, unsure signs he signed, "when will you punish me?"

"What?" Minerva did not yell, but the question caught her off guard and he flinched back at the rather harsh tone. "I am sorry." He signed, his hands shaking violently. "I should not have asked that."

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Severus Snape rubbed his eyes and yawned. It was only four in the afternoon, but he was absolutely drained. Not that he had expected this to be easy, but the boy's unsure, fearful, nearly panicky reaction to almost _everything_ that should have been _normal_ wasn't something he had been prepared for. Well, yes. He had been prepared for it. He had known that Harry would fear nearly everything. But he had not been prepared for the amount of energy it would cost him to deal with that child.

**Flashback**

_Severus watched Minerva and Harry from the doorway for a little while._

_They were both sitting at the small coffee table, silently watching each other._

_Minerva was observing the boy with warm and kind eyes, interested, and with a small smile on her normally so stern face, while Harry was watching the other teacher with a wary gaze, never leaving his eyes off her features, as always fearing the worst._

_Slowly he made his way over to the both of them, sitting at the armrest of the armchair closest to the sofa the boy sat at. Harry was perched on the edge of the seat his hands clasped together nervously._

_"It is time, Harry." He said, watching the boy close. He knew what would come. Even if they had discussed this already._

_Harry never answered and he did not look at him. His gaze rested onto his hands that were still trembling and Severus reached over and placed his fingers under the child's chin and gently lifted Harry's face to meet his eyes as he knew Harry was growing scared._

_"We have already been through this, Harry." He said and a bit of the spooked animal look left the boy's eyes._

_"Yes sir. I know." The boy signed and tried to pull away but Severus tightened his grip and looked into those green eyes. He needed Harry to understand._

_"Look at me, child!" He ordered when Harry hesitated to lift his eyes and to look back into the dark eyes of the Potions Master._

_"That is much better, child." He then said as Harry finally gazed at him. "I have already told you yesterday. I will be away for two hours and then I will be back. I have a class to teach. The headmaster is already covering most of my classes, but potions with the first year students is important. I have to do this on my own if I wish to have a classroom at all by the end of this therm. I will not abandon you, Harry. I told you so yesterday afternoon when I explained this to you. I have been teaching during the past weeks when you have been asleep, and I always came back. As I will this time, no matter if you are awake now. And you will not be alone here either. Professor McGonagall will be here with you as long as I am away. You already know professor McGonagall and you do know that you do not have to fear her. And - I will – come – back. Do you understand this?"_

_"Yes sir." Was again all that the boy signed, while he looked quite ill._

_"What did I say to you?" Severus asked, just to ensure the boy really understood._

_"You said I am not alone, sir." The boy finally answered with his slow and unsure signs. "That the Professor is here and that you will come back in two hours. That you have to teach."_

_"Good. That is quite correct. I have to go now. I will be back in two hours." Snape said in a tone so gentle that Minerva didn't believe it was really him speaking, and finally he stood up, lightly squeezing Harry's shoulder while he left, giving Minerva a small nod, wondering how it was that the boy just now was acting in such a different way towards him._

_On one hand, he still feared him. He definitely feared him. He feared him as if he was the Dark Lord in person. Sometimes he sat in front of him, trembling like mad, flinching away from him and his entire body tense as if awaiting the worst beating possible. But then, on other occasions like just now, the boy feared that he would abandon him, that he would not come back, that he would push him away._

_Was he really thus important to the boy? _

**End flashback**

He entered his quarters as he had promised two hours after he had left them. He had been quite successful. Potions with the first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws and for once it had been a lesson without an exploding cauldron, without even a melted cauldron.

Well, Longbottom was not in this class and that alone ensured a relatively save lesson.

And afterwards he had visited the common room of his Slytherins. Of course Albus had taken his lessons over and he had promised to watch over his Slytherins as well. But nevertheless he wanted them to know he was still there, he wanted to make sure that all was well. And all _was_ well.

At least until he entered his quarters hearing Minerva's statement that Harry was too quiet and her question if he needed anything. Watching the boy he caught the signed words "when will you punish me?" and his heart sunk painfully. Damn! This had been not going as well as he had hoped. Something had happened while he had been gone.

After a sharp "What?" from Minerva and a violent flinch from the boy he made out the words from Harry "I am sorry. I should not have asked that." He walked over to the two of them, noticing the boy shaking from head to toe and cast a questioning glance at Minerva.

"Nothing serious, Severus." She explained, yet – her voice was trembling. "Mr. Potter took the cup of tea from the table and it slipped out of his fingers and landed at the floor, noting happened. I just guess I startled him. I called his name when he tried to pick up the shards. I feared he would cut his hands."

Severus nodded, his face a dark mask. There he was! The situation he had feared most! And in the presence of Minerva! He closed his eyes for a moment, his hands shaking.

The boy was sitting in the corner of the sofa, curled up, drawing his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. A defensive position, Severus noted, that Harry seemed to take whenever he felt fearful or vulnerable, as if he were subconsciously trying to comfort or to protect himself. Trying to keep himself together, trying to keep himself from falling apart.

The boy had been sitting there, expecting a punishment, fearing a punishment, for he didn't know how long and none came. He could even see the boy's terrified gazes he cast into the direction of the belt he was wearing and he approached Minerva.

Minerva did not understand Severus' reaction. He seemed to be ... well, angry somehow, but afraid at the same time. His hands trembled and his face was as pale as death as he approached her. She had seen him in such a state only after some of the Death Eater meetings. But he had not attended one. He had been teaching a class. And as she herself always had the same combinations as had Severus, she knew that he had been teaching Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. A combination that was easy to handle. Not like the Gryffindors and Slytherins that always fought, even during classes.

"Please, Minerva, tell me you did ensure him, that no punishment would take place." He whispered silently so the boy would not hear his question and Minerva shook her head, her face pale now as well, as she suddenly remembered his words, spoken in the infirmary a few days ago.

'_He will fear punishment for everything he does, for everything that happens, even for everything he thinks. When this punishment does not come, his anxiety will grow very quickly. So you whether have to punish him, and do so immediately, or ensure him that no punishment will take place.'_

Severus' face was ashen and he actually looked ill as she shook his head slightly, letting out a low sigh of frustration while gritting his teeth. He had to calm himself. And he had to do so at once. He had to keep a clear mind if he himself did not want to panic as well. And just now he cursed the fact that he had begun to love this boy. This only made it even harder to do what he had to do. He wouldn't have had a problem with it, would he still see his childhood enemy in the boy. Well, ok, even then he would have had a problem with this, he had to admit, but at least not such a big problem. He would not feel so suffocating by himself, as if his lungs and his heart were squeezed by an iron fist.

Severus gripped the backrest of the armchair and his gaze wandered to the terrified boy on the sofa. Harry's frightened eyes still darted back and forth between the belt he was wearing and his eyes, as if he was trying to learn what would happen before it happened. The boy awaited the feared punishment. And he, Severus, did not know how to persuade the disoriented boy that no punishment would take place.

No matter how clearly and how truly they would now try to assure the boy that no such punishment would take place, he would not believe them and he would further wait for something to happen. He would wait for hours, days, even for weeks if he had to, not forgetting that – in his point of view – there was still a punishment that was open.

This situation had to be ended now. He just did not like the fact that it would be him who had to end this situation.

Yet – he _had_ to do something. And he had to do something that would be burned into the boy's mind, something that he wouldn't forget and – well, if scaring him senseless at the moment would be what it would take to make him see once and for all that he would not have to fear a belt, a punishment, then he had to do just this.

He stepped away from the armchair and into the open space of the living area.

"Get over here, Potter!" He commanded, not able to address the boy with his given name at the moment as he feared he would not be able to be as harsh then as he needed to be just now, and as much as he hated it, he let his voice sound like an angry growl. He hated what he had to do next, but it was the only way he knew of at this moment and he steeled himself, knowing how cruel it was.

Yet – the boy remained sitting on the furniture, his body tense, his fear paralyzing him, preventing him from standing and finding a way over to the Potions Professor.

Severus narrowed his eyes. "I said – come – here!" He growled.

He waited until the boy finally got to his feet and slowly made his way towards him, his steps unsure and hesitant, reluctant, until he finally stood in front of him, trembling like mad and his hands held stiff by his side. He then slowly and calculatingly unbuckled his belt, forcing the trembling of his own hands to still and watching the shaking boy in front of him carefully.

"Severus!" Came the startled cry from Minerva, but he ignored her and concentrated further onto Potter, knowing exactly what the boy felt in this moment.

Minerva jumped to her feet. She could not believe what she saw. The boy had only dropped a cup of tea, for Merlin's sake! It had been an accident! And it had been nothing more than a cup that wasn't even destroyed! She had repaired it! And there surely was no punishment needed! Surely Severus would not resort to violence!

She knew this man since twenty years now, and surely he would not beat this child! Close to a panic herself now she watched the stiff form of the Potions Master and she remembered the pain in his eyes as he had asked her if she had assured Potter that no punishment would follow. No, he would not beat a child, she told herself. But what in Merlin's name ...

But then she remembered Poppy's words. _'No matter what, do not interfere, whatever Severus does. It may be that he does things, which you would not understand, which you even would consider cruel. But believe me, he knows what he does. Within this moment it is important that you allow him to handle the child without interfering in any way.'_

Well, when Poppy trusted him, then she could do so as well, even if she feared something horrible may happen.

Severus pulled his belt off with an audible snap and he watched the shaking boy's eyes grow wide with terror while he flinched, pulled his arms over his face and nearly dropped to the floor. He didn't drop to the floor however, but he backed off a step and Severus could see that he tried to prepare himself for what would come, his muscles tense, his teeth pressed together, his hands clenched into fists and his terrified eyes locked with those of Severus, silently pleading, shaking his head slowly, barely visible.

As slowly and calculating as he had unbuckled his belt he folded the leather strap in two and watched as Potter cringed, perspiration forming at his forehead when he stepped closer to the boy.

Minerva stood rooted to the spot, trembling herself as she watched the scene in front of her. She was absolutely shocked. Surely Severus would not be that cruel. But what in Merlin's name _was _Severus doing then? The man _was _about to ...

Severus feared he would suffocate and he was ready to end this wrenched game now and forever, but he gritted his teeth, held his own breath to prevent himself from gasping and lifted the belt into the air, forcing himself to ignore the small scream of fear from the boy and with one swift movement he threw the belt into the fire to his left.

With a gut wrenching scream the shaking boy turned away, turned his back towards him and at the same movement he collapsed onto the floor when he saw the downwards movement of Severus' arm. He curled into a small ball, trembling uncontrollably and whimpering in his terror.

Severus stood for a moment longer over the terrified boy, trying to catch his breath before he knelt beside him and slowly took the trembling shoulders into a firm grip, pulling the boy into his arms while his own hands shook. He still had trouble breathing, felt that he would suffocate with each breath he forced into his lungs, felt that his chest might explode at any moment, or implode. It didn't matter which way round.

He hated such things like nothing else, but frightening the boy into believing he would beat him like his uncle had done so often ... the boy had to acknowledge the difference. Still gritting his teeth he exhaled loudly and closed his eyes.

"Hush." He whispered. "I know, child. I know. Nothing happened and nothing will ever happen. This is the worst you will ever face. I will not beat you. Never. It is ok. It is ok, child."

Running a trembling hand through the black hair of the boy Severus turned a sad and tired face to Minerva. "In my laboratory, Minerva. The calming potion. In the cabinet to your left upon entering. Third shelf from above. A vial containing a green liquid and labelled as 'sedativus potio'." He whispered with his voice trembling and the still shaking woman nodded and went towards the Potions Master's laboratory.

Severus cursed himself silently for his cruelly. He had caused the boy pain, emotionally pain, and it had nearly torn him to shreds. It had caused him nearly physical pain to see the terror in those green eyes, hear the panic in the boy's scream when he had thrown the belt into the fire, when the boy had thought the belt would come down onto him now. "Easy now, child." He continued to whisper into the boy's ears. "I know what you feel. But it is over, child. It is ok. It is over and everything is ok."

He still held the boy in his arms, rocking him back and forth and whispering soft words to him while the child cried and sobbed into his robes, clinging to him as if onto a lifeline when Minerva came back and handed him the vial with the shining green liquid.

"Thank you, Minerva." Severus whispered, took the calming potion and undid the stopper with the thumb of the same hand, not daring to release the boy completely. Damn, he had seen the boy terrified and in pain before, but never by his own hand and he would have given anything would he have not had to do what he had done.

"It is ok, child." He continued to whisper into the boy's ears. "It is ok. Drink this, it is a calming potion. You know this one already." He placed the vial at the boy's lips and the fear the boy would refuse was just overwhelming. He would not force the boy this time, not added to what he had done just a few minutes ago, he would not be able to force the boy now.

But he did not have to. The boy downed the potion unresistingly, too confused and too much a mess than to do anything else than he was told to do now and Severus sighed a sigh of relieve. "That's it, child." He whispered. "You will feel better in a moment. I am sorry. I am sorry I had to do this. And I promise nothing worse will ever happen. Never would I beat you. You are safe here. I just had to show you that I never would beat you, even if it was in a cruel way. I just had to show you the difference between your uncle and me. You can feel safe here and you can feel at home here. I am sorry I had to do this."

He felt the small body in his arms getting limp as the calming potion began to work and the boy fell asleep with exhaustion. The past few minutes simply had been too much for him to handle.

Slipping one arm under Harry's knees and the other behind his back, he lifted the boy into his arms and cradled the small, still trembling body against his chest. With a few soft steppes he carried the boy to the sofa and laid him onto the pillow, placing the blanket over the sleeping form.

For a moment he stood there, gazing down at the boy whom he had caused such terror, his shoulders slumped before he seated himself into the armchair nearest to the sleeping child. With something that sounded like a sob he leaned forwards, his elbows on his knees and his face in his still shaking hands.

"Severus?" Minerva asked, still shocked. Never before had she seen the dark and tough Potions Master in such a state. Close to a breakdown, sobbing.

For a moment she had been thinking that he really would bring the belt down onto the boy and she herself had not been able to suppress a startled scream when Severus had thrown the belt into the fire. She had absolutely no clue how this man had managed to frighten the boy thus and keeping his composure until the end. And now he sat there, his hands shaking and he actually was sobbing, in front of her no less.

"Are you ok, Severus?" She asked.

"What do you think, Minerva?" He whispered after a few moments in a rough, trembling voice, tired and sad. "Do you think this was easy for me? Do you think I like doing things like this?"

"Then tell me why did you do this, Severus? I do not really understand it."

"This boy had dropped a cup of tea, nothing more." Severus whispered. "And I know that it had been only because today his hands were trembling more than the previous days. Because he was alone with you, because I was not here." For a moment he laughed softly. Yet – it was not a happy laugh. It was a sarcastic one.

"Yes, as strange as it may sound, he draws some safeness from my presence. From me of all people!" He continued after a moment. "Because he knows exactly what I expect from him and he knows exactly what he can expect from me. Nothing happened besides of an accident. Yet – he feared a punishment. And even if you were kind to him, he spent the entire time waiting for you to punish him. When you did not do so and when you did not assure him that no punishment would take place either, he assumed you were delaying and planning something more terrible. And the longer you delayed, the greater his tension became. Until he decided he couldn't handle whatever you had in mind for him and chose to ask you. I simply had to show him that no matter what, he would never been beaten. And when frightening him senseless was what it took, then it had to be done."

"The nerve of you, Severus Snape, really!" She whispered, shaking her head. "I would never have been able to do this to the child."

"What is exactly the reason why Poppy begged you not to interfere." Severus growled, hating the medi-witch at this precise moment for the fact that she allowed him to handle those abused children. Well, hating Poppy for a moment would at least help him to regain his composure. "What is exactly the reason why Poppy begged you to leave me handle such situations."

"I really wonder why she would do so …" Minerva growled, knowing that she was unfair, but knowing that she as well needed a way to get rid of her tension, to get her composure back.

"As do I." Severus whispered, his head still in his hands and his hands still trembling.

"How, Severus?" Minerva asked. "How in Merlin's name are you able to do such? You frightened the boy to no end! You … you …" Gasping at the words that did not come to her mind to express what exactly she felt, she stopped.

"Actually, I do know this." Severus sighed. "And believe me, I hate it to no end. But somehow I _had_ to ensure that the boy recognized that he never again would be beaten. I had him realizing that I was not his uncle and that I never would act like his uncle had."

"So he will not fear a punishment in future?" Minerva asked, calmer now, but her voice made clear that she did not believe it.

"Of course he will." Severus answered, his hands still shaking. "But he has learned something today nevertheless."

"And that might be, Severus?" She asked. "Besides the fact that he was frightened senseless by you?"

Severus cringed at her words, knowing that she was right.

"He has learned that I am not his uncle. And he has learned that he never again has to fear a belt."

"Oh, how nice, Severus. So you will repeat this with every tool that could be used as a beating instrument?" Minerva asked, her voice brisk with angry sarcasm.

Severus gazed at her and slowly he closed his eyes. "If I have to, then yes." He simply stated.

"How in Merlin's name, can you do this and ..." Again she gasped at the loss of words she felt. "Severus, how can you frighten the boy thus without ... how?"

"Do ask me the same question tomorrow." Severus whispered, his eyes held close. "Maybe then I will be able to give you an answer."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

After Minerva had left Severus hesitated for a moment, but as Harry obviously was not going to wake on his own, he finally gathered the boy into his arms and carried him into his room, placed him onto his bed, noting that the boy was still lighter than he should be.

With a flick of his wand he had the clothes the boy wore transfigured into pyjamas and he just slipped up the sleeves to massage a muscle relaxant into the skin of the boy's arms. Harry would be stiff tomorrow otherwise, he knew. He knew how tense the boy had been during the past hours and especially during the few minutes while he feared a beating from him.

Again he felt the remorse wash over him with a force that made him hitch his breath.

Minerva was right. How could he? And how could Albus allow someone like him to teach on a school? To work with children? How could the headmaster place such an amount of trust into him? And how could Harry rely so much on him? How could the boy trust him thus far that he feared he would abandon him?

Shaking his head and closing his eyes he pulled the sleeves down and repeated the same with the boy's legs.

Yes, Harry still was horribly thin, but he felt the muscles under his hands had been slowly gaining mass during the past three weeks since he was down here in his quarters. The boy at least was beginning to heal. He wasn't eating much yet, but he was eating regularly and he was eating without having cramps or throwing up afterwards. And he seemed to eat without forcing himself to do so only because he was told to.

He had noticed during the past days that there actually were things he preferred. Vegetables for example he seemed to love. He ate slowly then, very slowly, nearly painstakingly slowly. But Severus knew that it wasn't because he was not hungry or did not want to eat. No, the boy savoured every bit of it, as if he feared it would be his last one.

Well, he guessed the boy _did_ fear just this. What was exactly the reason he never said anything when Harry took four times as long as he took for eating. He would not take away this freedom from the boy.

Spinach especially the boy loved and Severus smiled while he recalled the green eyes going bright whenever Zilly served this special treat for the boy. Harry himself then actually smiled and his entire face lit up with this smile.

What Harry didn't like at all was neither fish nor fowl. He then shivered with every bite he took, but Severus insisted that the boy had it at least once a week anyway.

Well, the boy at least didn't fear eating anymore. At least not to such an extend as it had been in the beginning. There were still some meals at which Harry hesitated, especially when it was something that was out of the order, like sweets for example. Or when he had had a tiring day and was exhausted. But all in all the Potions Master was satisfied with the boy's eating habits that had improved during the past few days now.

When he gently turned the boy onto his stomach so he could massage the muscle relaxant into the skin on the boy's shoulders and back, Harry woke and with a small startled gasp he tried to get away from the hands that were on his shoulders.

"Hush, child." Severus whispered in a gentle voice. "You are safe."

Harry let his eyes wander through the room for a moment before he gazed at the Potions Master and Severus could see the fear in them. He had calmed down, recognizing that he was in his room and that no one was there besides of himself and his Professor. But at the same time he had remembered the events earlier in the afternoon and he was unsure now of what he had to expect.

"Hush, child." Severus repeated, allowing Harry to sit up. "You do not have to fear anything. I on the other hand still have to apologize to you for my actions earlier." He said. "But I did not know of another way to ensure that you never have to fear a beating."

"I thought …" Harry slowly signed. "I thought you would …" He didn't finish his sentence and the unsure look in the boy's eyes deepened, burned itself into Severus' chest, before he cast his eyes down onto his hands that lay in his lap.

"I know, Harry." Severus sighed, lifting the boy's chin with the tips of his fingers so Harry had to look into his eyes. "And I apologize for that. I did not want to frighten you. But I did want you to see that there is a difference between your uncle and me. You won't have to fear a beating from me. Absolutely never. And surely not for such a small thing as dropping a cup. Minerva had been right, it was only a cup, nothing more. And even if she would not have been able to repair it, the fact remains that it was only a cup."

"I felt …" The boy signed, his gaze lingering unsurely at him. "I felt it slip … but I could not … hold it."

"I know." Severus answered. "Your hands were trembling worse today than they do normally. You felt unsure. And you have been afraid because you were alone with Professor McGonagall for the first time. And thus your body reacted to what you felt and your hands trembled worse today. And because of this, the cup just slipped."

"I'm sorry."

"There is no need to be sorry." Severus sighed. Three weeks now, and still the boy felt the need to apologize every few minutes to make sure he wasn't punished for something. Whatever this something might be. He guessed that not even the boy himself knew what for.

"But why do thy still … do this?" Harry asked and for a moment Severus had to consider what exactly the boy meant.

"Why your hands still are trembling?" He asked.

"Yes." Came the small answer. "I am better, you said. And I am not in pain … no more."

Severus smiled at the signs, the boy not knowing how to express the word 'anymore' and searching for other words to show what he meant. Yes, he really was intelligent.

"You _are_ better." He answered. "But just because you are better, it doesn't mean that you are well yet. You might not be in as much pain anymore as you have been for a very long time. But I am sure you still are in some kind of pain. You just do not recognize it as pain because you are used to worse. But nevertheless I can tell from the way your muscles react whenever we do the exercises, or whenever I work the muscle relaxing potion into your skin that there still is some pain left. You just are used to more pain than what you actually feel now."

The dumbfounded look on the boy's face made Severus chuckle for a moment, but then he grew serious again.

"Harry?" He asked, taking the boy's hands into his and watching the small, pale face closely. "Are you angry with me?" He then asked.

Well, the dumbfounded look on the boy's face even deepened and he lowered his head in a questioning manner before he shook his head and pulled his hands out of the Potions Master's grasp.

"I do not understand, sir." He signed. "Why should I?"

"Because of my actions earlier." Severus answered and again he felt as if someone was squeezing his chest painfully. "Because I frightened you to no end."

Harry blinked at him for a few moments, his gaze still questioning, confused.

"I still do not understand, sir." He then signed. "I am not angry. I do not understand why I should be."

"Because I made you feel horrible." Severus said. "Because I scared you. This panic you felt, it was because of me. I caused it."

Still with a confused look on his face Harry shrugged his shoulders and then shook his head. "But you are an adult. And you are my … you are the one who keeps me. And I am only a child. I do not know how to say it. I do not know the words."

"You do not have to." Severus said, narrowing his eyes at the boy. If he was right, well, then they had the next problem at hand. "You think I had the right to do so, just because I am your guardian. That I had the right to do whatever I want to do, just because I am the adult and you are the child. Am I right?"

The enthusiastic nod that came from Harry made him nearly sick to his stomach. The boy really believed that he had no rights, just because he was a child and that he, Severus, as his guardian had the right to do whatever he wanted. In other words, he didn't see that what his uncle had done to him as a crime either. He still believed that his uncle had had the right to do what he had done. And in all likelihood he still feared that at some point sooner or later he – Severus – would do the same to him as he was his guardian and had the right to do so. He had thought they were past this point.

"That is not true, Harry." He said, ignoring the confused look Harry gave away. "There are laws for children's rights, and there are laws for child protection. And no one, not because he is an adult and not because he is the guardian or a parent, has the right to harm a child. A child, every child, and that includes you too, Harry, has to be kept safe and protected. And yes, children too have rights." He added at the startled look on Harry's face.

"For example, a child has the right to feel safe. A child has the right to have at least three meals a day. A child has the right to learn, to have freedom. And having a child working the entire day, what is called child labour, and what your relatives did, that is forbidden. It violates the law for children's rights. As well as is beating a child, or starving a child like your aunt and uncle have done. It is called abuse and violates the law for children's rights and for child protection too. Do you understand what I mean?"

A few seconds nothing happened, but then the boy shook his head. Yet – he didn't look at Severus and the Potions Master knew that Harry had understood well, that he just wasn't ready to accept it yet and he sighed.

"Think about it, Harry." He said. "Not now if you do not wish to, but think about it. And if you have any questions about it, never mind when, then just ask. Do you understand?"

This time Harry nodded and Severus gave a nod in return. "Now turn onto your stomach, Harry." He said. "So I can get this potion massaged into the skin of your back. From the tension you have built up earlier, I guess you already feel the muscles going stiff and tomorrow they just would ache worse."

Harry did as he was told and turned, laid onto his stomach, without the hesitation he always had shown in the beginnings, three weeks earlier and Severus lifted the hem of the boy's pyjama top. But still, as soon as his hands touched the small back to rub the potion into the skin, the boy flinched under the touch. Well, he knew that it would take more than three weeks for the boy to get over his fears.

"Close your eyes." Severus said, continuing to work the potion into the skin and trying to loosen the already stiff muscles on the boy's neck and shoulders. Nearly all of the bruises were gone meanwhile and the cuts were nearly healed as well. They were still clearly visible, fine red lines that crisscrossed the boy's back. Not the silver-white yet as the older scars were, but not as angry red as they had been either. They soon would be nothing more than old scars.

Reluctantly Harry obeyed and closed his eyes and Severus smiled and for a moment he stopped to summon the boy's notebook and pencil, knowing that Harry wouldn't be able to sign his answers while he was laying on his stomach.

"What do you feel, Harry?" He then asked, stopping while the boy slowly wrote his answer down. Harry's writing abilities had increased well, he was able to write nearly everything that he wanted. He still didn't know where to set a comma or a full stop, nor when exactly he had to use a capital letter. And there often were words that were written the wrong way. But Severus understood what was written and he knew that the boy had come a long way during a short time. So he didn't mind.

'it is warm when you do this' The boy wrote.

"Rub your palms together." Severus said. That had not been what he had meant, but well, as long as Harry's mind was off his fear then it was right with him and Harry did as he was told, rubbed his palms together.

'they get warm too' He then wrote and Severus nodded.

"Yes, they do." He answered. "Rubbing palms together, or hands over something, produces heat." He explained. "It is physics. Not my favourite subject I have to admit. Movements too produce heat as well as kneading something. So – yes, in general, I produce heat when I work the potion into your skin. What else do you feel?"

'the move ments of my muscles' Harry wrote his answer and Severus smiled.

"And does it feel bad?" Severus asked. "Or does it feel good?" He lessened the pressure of his fingers when he got to a spot where the last remaining cuts were still a darker red. The ones that had been infected. They too were closed now and healing well but still they were darker red lines than the others were.

'good

but it makes me sleepy' Came the answer and Severus chuckled.

"A side effect that is quite pleasing." He said. "Do you fear these massages?" Severus now asked the question that had been in his mind, again pausing while the boy wrote his answer.

'i I dont know' The Potions Master read and he lifted his eyebrow.

"I guess you do know, Harry." He said. Somehow he had known that this answer would come. The boy often tried to give an answer due to what he thought he wanted to hear of him instead of what truly was on his mind. "And you just do not know which answer I would want from you." He sighed while his hands ran over the small backbone. "I do not want to get an answer from you that might be on my mind but on yours. I would not ask _you_ otherwise but myself."

'I am not sure

some times'

"I guessed as much." Severus said, his voice indifferent. Well, he had known the answer, so there was no need to feel disappointment. Nevertheless he somehow did. "But there is no need to. Even if you do not see what exactly I am doing in a moment while you have your back on me. Or when you have your eyes closed." He continued to run his hands over the delicate backbone for a moment before he went to the lower back.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, a question he still asked from time to time. Of course he knew that this question was unfair, much more so as he had frightened the boy senseless just a bit over an hour ago. Of course the boy would not trust him right now. How could he?

'yes some times

but some times I dont know if I can'

Severus gasped for a moment at the answer. Up to now he had received nothing else than an unsure and hesitant headshaking accompanied with fear of being punished for disappointing him. But then he smiled.

"Quite understandable." He said. "You are here since just three weeks now and it will take time to get used to a strange person. Especially as you did not have had much positive experiences with your relatives. And especially as it is a person like me you have to get used to. I might not be the kindest man." He chuckled lightly. That was quite an understatement.

'you are' The boy wrote and Severus smiled, shaking his head.

"You might think this way, Mr. Potter, as you are not used to real kindness. But believe me, I am not." He said and he sighed when he felt the boy stiffen under his touch at the name Mr. Potter he had used. "And there is no need to be afraid because I used your sure name. It is quite common for a teacher to do such. It rather would be inappropriate to use your given name during classes."

'how do you know'

Severus again chuckled silently. The boy really was not used to any social interactions nor was he aware of his own body language.

"I felt it as my hands still are touching your back. I feel your movements as well as you feel mine." He explained. "And I see it. I see it when you stiffen in expectance of a beating. You can read a body's language as well as facial expressions. Something you do with me, when you watch me. It goes the other way round as well."

There was a pause for a few moments and he felt the boy squirm underneath his hands before Harry wrote again.

'it itches'

"Where?" Severus asked, halting in his movements but keeping the contact of his hands on the boy's back.

'under the shoulder

inside'

"Which side?" Severus asked, frowning. "And is it itching or is it rather numb?"

'both somehow

and this side'

Harry waved with his right hand. Ok, so he would have to teach the boy the difference between left and right, not easy to get it straight if you didn't learn it from the start. Harry was eleven now.

"That is your right hand." Severus said. "Try to remember that the hand in which you are holding your quill is right. The other one thus would be left. Now, place your right arm behind your back, palm upwards."

The boy turned enough so he could look at him and the gaze was a nearly fearful one. Severus sighed.

"While your arm is behind your back, I might be able to reach under your shoulder blade." Severus explained, watching Harry, curious to what he would do. He would not force the boy to do as he had asked of him. He had seen the memory in which Dursley had forced the boy's arms behind his back.

Yet – Harry _did_ place his arm behind his back, slowly, hesitantly, nearly hitching a breath in the task and the trembling that was overtaking the small form told Severus enough. With slow movements he placed his right hand over Harry's right shoulder and gently he pressed it down a bit onto the mattress until the shoulder blade came up enough so he could reach underneath a bit and then he gently worked his fingers under the small space.

For some, the fact that Harry did so, might have been not much. But Severus knew what an amount of trust the boy showed towards him while he really laid his arm behind his back and thus gave him the opportunity to hold it there if he so wished, immobilizing the boy if he so wished and he had to swallow to get his emotions back under control.

For a few minutes he gently kneaded the muscles down there, whispering soft reassurances.

"Better?" He then asked, pausing.

Harry nodded, not ready to really use written or signed words yet and Severus gently placed the boy's right arm back onto the mattress beside him and then he backed away, thus encouraging him to move his arms, to change into a position of his own choice.

"Ready to get up and have dinner?" He then asked, still watching the boy closely and he got to his feet, giving Harry space to do the same.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Harry has improved immensely during his time in Severus' quarters and as the visits from Minerva also go well, the Potions Master decides it is time that Harry gets a bit of fresh air and sun. Meeting the weeping willow … I love weeping willows … and of course there has to be one in this story …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter, even if this time there might be no positive reviews ... just don't kill me, I wouldn't be able then to go on with this story and you would lack the end of it ... thank you


	20. time outside and a decision

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes, I really would appreciate it, if you would honour my work with a short review as I always will honour your comments with an answer on said site - the review-site ... and even if it is just so I know if I am on the right track with this story ...

**Added Note:**

.oO( … yes … it still is there … )

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question and scrutinize every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Harry nodded, not ready to really use written or signed words yet and Severus gently placed the boy's right arm back onto the mattress beside him and then he backed away, thus encouraging him to move his arms, to change into a position of his own choice._

_"Ready to get up and have dinner?" He then asked, still watching the boy closely and he got to his feet, giving Harry space to do the same._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter twenty**

**Time outside and a decision**

Severus was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in front if him, thinking over the past few days and questioning himself, his ability to handle this special child. Harry needed so little, asked for so little, and yet at the same time, he needed so much, asked for so much. In his own way, without even recognizing that he did.

Well, the boy never knowingly asked for something. Not verbally. And not with his signs either. Not even in a written way.

Yet – with his entire appearance he secretly, unknowingly, asked for so much. For love, for affection, for anything.

The boy had responded to his care in a fearful manner at first, avoiding every touch, avoiding every gentle word, avoiding every attention. But now, he had begun to respond to his care in a thirsty manner, just like the starved child he was. He was anxious to please, to do anything that would get him a friendly word, that would get him a hand on his shoulder, or that would get him any attention at all.

And he – Severus – he wasn't any longer able to pretend that he was just the boy's teacher. That he was just his Potions Professor. That he didn't love the boy deeply.

When he had tented to Harry's injuries in the infirmary, something had happened to him. Something that never before had happened, never mind how many of his Slytherins he'd had under his care thus far. Never mind …

His hard shell had begun to crack. Just a little bit, but then the memories had come and now he knew that he wouldn't be able to mend this crack. And frankly, he didn't mind. During the past few days he even had allowed some of the shell's pieces to fall.

But why? Why he had let the boy into his live as much as he had, into his soul, into his heart, and into his mind – he still had no answer to this question. It wasn't as if the name Potter wouldn't stand as a synonym for chaos, after all.

Well, maybe Lily, with her joy for live, had decided that his life had become – just a bit too boring.

Lifting his head and watching the person that was on his mind standing in the doorway, his stance unsurely and his hands fidgeting nervously, he had to suppress a smile and he made up his mind. He would take the boy outside today. It was time the boy got a bit of fresh air into his lungs. And it was time the boy got to feel the sun on his pale skin. And a change of scenery.

Well, there was one more thing he soon had noticed about Harry. The boy was an amazing sponge when it came to learning things, absorbing every information he could get, never mind what kind of information it was. He was curious about everything. Even if he never would ask questions. It was pretty clear that he had not been allowed to ask any questions while he lived with the Dursleys. The boy soon had learned to absorb information around him without asking.

"Do not stand in the doorway, Harry." He said, pouring tea into a second mug for the boy. "Get over here and have a seat. Have some breakfast and then I will take you out and into the back yard."

Harry immediately grew nervous. Well, he had known that the time would come when he would have to work for his keep. And really, he didn't mind working. The Professor had done so much for him after all and it was about time that he did something to pay it back. But he was worried nevertheless.

He never had been worried over the state he was in while he had been with the Dursleys. He'd never had time to worry about that. And he'd never had someone who had shown him in what kind of state exactly he had been either. But now – the Professor had shown him in what kind of state he had been. And suddenly he had recognized how weak he was. And how useless.

Would he be able to get the task his Professor would set him done in an appropriate time? Would he be able to fulfill the task to his Professor's satisfaction?

He didn't know. And he was worried.

"What are you worried about, Harry?" Severus asked, confused at the nervousness he noticed coming from the boy.

"Nothing, sir." Harry signed, not ready to admit that he maybe would be too weak for the work in the garden. He would try his best. Nothing else he could do after all.

"It is just the back yard, Harry." Severus said while he placed a piece of toast, crumbled eggs and fruits onto the boy's plate, irritated at the fact that Harry still never touched any food by himself, that still he had to fill the boy's plate so Harry would eat anything. It wasn't that it bothered him to do this. But he knew that Harry would have to learn to take food by himself. That he would not be punished for taking food by himself. He would have to eat in the great hall at some point, and there he would have to take food by himself.

Well, they would work on this, just as they worked on so many things at the same time. Maybe they worked on too many things at the same time. But how could he concentrate on one single thing when there were so many things to mend when it came to this boy?

"It is just the back yard." He repeated. "It is away from the yards where the rest of the student body is allowed and thus you wound not have to fear facing other children, nor other teachers. A corridor is leading directly from the dungeons into the back yard and it is a quite peaceful and calm place. I am sure you will like it there."

Harry just nodded, not really looking confirmed, and he ate slowly. Well, the boy always ate slowly, savouring every bite he took. But this time Severus had the impression that he ate even slower than normally and again he wondered what exactly the boy feared.

When finally the boy was finished, still unable to empty his plate, Severus waved his wand and the dishes disappeared.

"Dress in a long sleeved shirt and one of the robes I gave you, not one of the school robes." He then addressed Harry. "It might become a sunny day, but the morning wind will be cold and chilly."

"Yes, sir." Harry only signed, his eyes lowered towards the ground and Severus watched him leave the kitchen with a strange feeling.

Well, the boy had not left the castle since he arrived on September the first. And he had not left the dungeons since Severus had taken him into his quarters. Of course he felt safe here, and leaving them surely meant leaving a safe haven. In other words, he would have to get the boy slowly used to leaving. A few minutes every day until Harry recognized that nothing would happen to him when he was outside their chambers.

Their chambers.

Severus shook his head. Had he really referred to his chambers as 'their' chambers?

Well, yes – he guessed he had, and he smiled.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

While they walked through the dungeon corridors, Severus recognized how fragile the boy still was. His pace still was slow and his face got a tad paler while they walked, their steps echoing through the corridors, and he was glad that even if the back yard might take them a few minutes to reach, that no other students would be found there. Harry would be able to rest there as soon as they reached the small garden.

He actually loved this part of the yards. No one ever came there. No one dared to. It was just too close to his quarters and he had claimed this part of the yards as his long ago. He had come here with Lily, back when they had been at school. And he often came here now. Now without Lily, now as a teacher at Hogwarts. He had planted a weeping willow when he had come back to Hogwarts, after Lily's death, after Lily had been killed. And he had placed wards around this small space, wards that would alert him whenever someone entered the back yard, _his_ back yard.

Reaching the heavy wooden door that led outside the dungeon corridor, he pushed the door open and led the boy beside him out, smiling when he felt the fresh morning air on his face, inhaling deeply.

"Come, child." He said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder and leading him outside and along a small path that led towards the weeping willow and a bench underneath the dangling branches that cast a strange game of shadows and sunlight.

"I love this garden." He began to explain. "No one ever comes here and I daresay that it – in a way – is mine. At least the headmaster never told otherwise since I have planted this weeping willow."

He smiled at the questioning gaze Harry gave him. Well, there were a lot of plants. A bed with some of the herbs he needed for his potions, another one with a few herbs for teas, and a third one with roses. Lily had loved roses. But that was not what he wanted to show the boy. It was the peace the weeping willow gave away he wanted to show Harry.

He was a bit confused at the confusion Harry showed him when he led the boy past the beds, but then he understood.

"You do not have to work out here. You are not a house elf. I brought you here so you can enjoy the sun, the wind and the fresh air. I want you to rest out here, Harry." He said, his hand firm on the boy's shoulder while he led him towards the tree that stood in the middle of the small yard.

"The tree." He explained. "This tree is a weeping willow. I planted it the same year your mother died. Just a few days after. At November the seventh. The headmaster did not believe that the small tree would survive the winter. Nor did I. But maybe it was your mother's love that kept the young tree alive. And now – now it spends me comfort and peace whenever I think of your mother. Whenever I come to visit this garden and this tree. I am sure your mother would have liked this weeping willow. And maybe, maybe you can find here comfort as well, Harry. You have my consent to visit this garden whenever you want. As long as it is not after curfew or during classes or mealtimes. And as long as you do not intend to work out here for your keep. That is not of necessity."

Harry didn't know what to think.

The Professor had led him along the path, past the beds with the herbs and with the roses.

For a moment he had thought he would have to care for those beds. But then the Professor had led him past them, had told him that he wasn't supposed to work out here, had told him the story with the weeping willow and his mother. And for a moment, after hearing the sadness in Professor Snape's tone, he dared to risk a glance up into the pale face of the Potions Master. He looked as sad as he sounded. He truly must have loved his mother. And he still seemed to miss her.

And it seemed to fit, a weeping willow, planted for a beloved one who had died. He would not have chosen another tree.

But what did Professor Snape want him to do? He had led him past the beds. And the lawn was already cut. He surely wouldn't be able to tend to a tree?

"Sit down, Harry." Professor Snape's voice cut through his thoughts pointing towards the bench and startled he sat onto the edge of the wooden furniture, his eyes unsurely on the Potions Master.

Severus sighed when he noticed the fearful gaze the boy gave him and he watched Harry for a moment before he took a seat beside the boy on the bench. He draped his arm on the backrest, mentioning Harry over and after a moment of hesitation the boy cautiously crept closer until he nearly leaned against him rigid and unsurely. Severus' expression didn't change, but his eyes seemed to warm a glimmer when he shifted his arm to curl it around Harry's shoulders and pulled him closer.

At first Harry tensed when he felt the older wizard's hand on his shoulder, when he felt the arm that curled around his shoulder, pulling him closer, but then he relaxed and his lips reluctantly curled into a smile as he found the tension in his shoulders suddenly draining in the Professor's familiar presence. Yes, even just seeing the dark eyed wizard with this harsh face soothed him on levels he had never felt before. He felt safe with Professor Snape, he felt protected.

He turned his head a bit to look at the Professor, trying to figure out if he was angry with him, if he still was sad, or if he was satisfied, trying to figure out if he was in trouble or if he could allow himself to favour the situation. Well, the man looked at him, and he seemed to be at peace, to be satisfied with the situation, so he relaxed further against the older wizard's side, leaning his head against the black clad shoulder.

When the boy turned his head to look at him Severus got a glimpse of his face and he was struck at how relaxed he seemed. Curious, and wary a bit, but relaxed and almost at ease, almost with a smile on the small lips and he noticed that he never before had seen Harry look like that. His heart felt oddly strange when he realised that he wanted to see that relaxed and peaceful expression on the boy's face more often. Yet – he knew what a long way _that_ would be. And until they had reached the end of this way and their destiny, such moments would be very rare and very short.

Well, what Minerva had said a few days earlier definitely was correct. The boy was growing close to him. The fact that Harry was in his arms was prove to that. And the fact that he himself allowed the boy to be in his arms proved that as well. Normally he never would allow anyone to be in his arms. And normally no one would want to anyway.

But this boy did.

His Harry did.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he noticed the boy asking for his attention with a questioning look he cast at him and he stopped thinking, tilted his head in a questioning manner and gave Harry his full attention.

"Yes?" He asked. "What is it?"

"I only want to thank you." The boy hesitantly signed, leaving his side and turning so he could look at him more closely. "For everything. For the room and for the food. And the clothes."

Severus sighed. "You have no need to thank me for providing you with food and keeping a roof over your head Mr. Potter." He said. "Nor for things like clothes. It is only common human needs."

The words were formal and stiff, but Harry had learned during the past few days that it was a cover for when the Professor felt some really deep emotions, just like the guarded look in his eyes, his blank expression and his rigid stance. But what was it this time Professor Snape felt? Had he angered him somehow? Had he done something wrong? He searched the adult's face for any signs of danger, but there were none. The Professor was open, as open as he allowed himself to be.

Yes, Harry also had learned that Professor Snape was not like other adults. Not like uncle Vernon and not like aunt Petunia. He was not like aunt Marge and not like Mrs. Figg, and he even was different from Professor McGonagall.

His uncle and his aunts always had displayed their anger and their hate at him, clearly visible in their faces, clearly audible in their voices, in their entire appearances. And Mrs. Figg always had showed kindness and a smile on her old face. Professor McGonagall was not as open as they had been, but she too had a kind face, stern, but kind, and a smile every now and then. But Professor Snape rarely smiled and he always tried to hide all his emotions. What made him appear cold some how. But Harry had learned meanwhile how to read this indifferent face and the hard black eyes. And – mostly at least – he had learned what the Professor felt at the moment.

"I don't know." He dared to sign, slowly, hesitantly, watching the man's face carefully.

"Why is that, child?" Severus asked, knowing that the boy was about to tell him something, knowing that he had to be careful when he wanted the boy to continue, knowing that one single wrong word or one single wrong movement would keep the boy from continuing.

"My aunt and uncle didn't give me that." Harry signed, still slowly and unsurely, his movements shaky. "I didn't have a room there. I slept in the cupboard under the stairs. And I …"

"Continue." Severus said carefully when the signs stopped, keeping his voice calm and low, keeping his eyes trained on the boy sitting beside him.

"I always was hungry there." Harry finally continued. "They … they didn't … I did cook for them, but I wasn't … I couldn't eat it. But I knew when my … when their son ate between the meals. I could … it was there …"

What exactly did the boy mean, Severus wondered. What exactly did he try to tell him?

"Explain." He said, his voice still very careful and precise as if that were the only way he could control his temper so he wouldn't startle the child that was about to open up to him, to share something with him that he had kept buried deeply within himself until now.

"I don't know how." The boy signed, his face a mask of frustration and Severus slowly extended his hand and placed it over the boy's arm, calming the desperate movements.

"I know." He whispered. "It is a difficult task to speak about it, especially for you as you are not able to know all the signs you need. But do not fix your mind onto the sentences that come to your mind. Try to describe them. Find a way to express what you want to say. I know you can do this." He encouraged the boy.

Nodding slowly and taking a deep breath, the boy continued, once more casting an unsure gaze at him and Severus nodded.

"My … their son … once he had a … when he got a year older … there were his friends at our home. And they sat in front of my cupboard to eat. I could see them through the … the … where air gets in the cupboard …" The boy in front of him tensed with the frustration of being unable to say what exactly he meant and with the memory itself, but Severus, feeling ill at what the boy was about to tell him, again placed his hands on the boy's arm to calm him.

"It is alright, child." He whispered. "I know what you mean. Continue."

"I could see them …" The boy continued, his entire body meanwhile shaking. "And I could … the food … I could …"

'Those monsters!' Severus thought, not daring to say the words aloud, knowing that it would be a growl that only would frighten the boy in front of him even more.

"Let me guess, and correct me, when I am wrong, but you could smell the food they were eating while you went hungry." Severus rasped in a pained voice and he wanted nothing more than to get to his feet and pace or to throw something, just to watch it break, knowing that he had to contain himself from such. At least until the boy would be asleep in his bed and he – Severus – would be in his laboratory and had placed silencing charms towards the door.

The boy nodded, hitching his breath and he pressed his eyes shut at the memory, moving his hands, but they didn't make any sense and Severus was about to take them into his own hands to still them, just when Harry reopened his eyes and again tried to sign words, without being able to.

Giving a frustrated scream away Harry got off the bench and run around the weeping willow, throwing himself onto the grassy floor beside the tree and in his frustration that he couldn't put his feelings into words, that he couldn't explain his teacher what he wanted him to know, when it was so important to him, when he needed the Professor to understand why he wanted to thank him, he cried and sobbed while he slammed his fists onto the earth.

Severus followed the child, at first startled at the anger the boy displayed for the first time, but knowing that this anger was not directed towards him, but towards the boy himself. That the boy only vented out his frustration over the incompetence he felt, over the disability to properly communicate with the man that was his guardian, cursing in his wordless manner, and even if his heart ached to see the boy rebuking himself like that, he knew that it was important.

Slowly he knelt down in front of the boy, waiting a few moments and then, feeling that he wasn't able to watch this any longer, he slowly extended his hands and took hold of those small shoulders.

"Harry!" He commanded, trying to get the boy to focus on him. "It is okay, child. I am here for you. Relax. Don't let it take over." His hand moved and he lifted Harry's chin with his fingertips so that the boy had to look up into his eyes. Severus was watching him intently, his expression soft and concerned at the tiredness he could see in the small face and at the pain and the fear he could see there.

"You are not alone, child." Severus comforted him. "I won't let you go through this alone. No one is going to hurt you ever again!" Hesitantly he wrapped his arms around the thin shoulders and pulled Harry to his chest, curling one hand around the small neck and running his other over the small back of the child, trying to give as much comfort as he could.

"It is all right child." He whispered. "Take deep breaths. You are safe here. Nothing and no one can harm you in my presence."

When Harry finally calmed down enough so that he was able to breath, he gripped the boy's shoulders and held him at arm length away from him, watching the frightened signs of "I'm sorry", watching the boy cringing, as if he was afraid he would punish him at every moment.

"There is no reason to be, child." He said, his voice nothing more than a rough whisper. "Do you really think I would punish you for showing your feelings? For expressing your frustration in the only way you are able to?"

Harry could see the worry in the Professor's dark eyes, but he said nothing to that. It was safer that way, he couldn't say the wrong thing that way. He had already said enough, done enough.

"You are censoring yourself." Severus said, his voice heavy with sadness. "You are trying not to say the wrong thing, you are trying to say nothing that would make me angry. Aren't you?"

Again Harry gave no answer. What could he say? He knew he had to give an answer, but which one? He just had to find the wanted reply. He just had to figure out which response the Professor would want from him.

"You do not need to worry." Severus sighed. "I will not get angry. And I will not punish you for expressing your feelings in the only way you are able to at the present time." Again he sighed, knowing that Harry was in no shape to respond and he grabbed the boy holding him close in a fierce, protective embrace. Daringly he again ran his hand over the small back, afraid that the boy would be startled and pull away from him.

Harry felt relief course through him when he felt the hand running up and down his back, relief at that simple touch and he felt himself surrounded by the smell of potions ingredients, by the smell of herbs that clung to the Professor's robes and throwing his fear out of the window he leaned his head against the Potions Master's chest.

"I'm sorry." He tried to sign while laying in the man's arms, still sobbing.

"Don't be." Severus repeated, his voice back under control. "Do not be sorry for things that are out of your control, Harry. It is not, nor will it ever be, your fault. The only ones to blame for this, are those pathetic excuses for human beings you have the misfortune to call your relatives." He growled, back to his normal snarky self and wishing he could strangle the damn bastards with his bare hands.

Harry jerked back cringing at the evident anger in Professor Snape's voice fearing that the Potions Master would beat him, but the man tightened his grip he had on the boy, not ready to let go of him yet.

"I am not angry at you, child." He growled softly, trying to get his anger under control. "Locking a child away in a cupboard is an abominable thing to do, Harry, and I think you know that by yourself."

The Potions Master's voice was firm, as were his black eyes that watched the pale face of the still sobbing child he held in his arms, but his hands that still ran over the boy's back were gentle and calming.

"Do you feel better now? Do you want to tell me the rest of it?" He asked, his arms still wrapped securely around the boy's shoulders, holding him close, not daring to think at the amount of trust the boy had showed towards him, telling him this what he already had told him, not daring to hope that he maybe would tell him the rest of it. When he felt the boy moving his hands he shifted the child in his arms so Harry would be able use his hands more easily.

"I was … so hungry." The boy continued. "And I was tired … I tried to sleep and … but I couldn't … it hurt."

"What exactly did hurt, child?" Severus asked, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer, feeling pain swell in his own chest. He had seen the outcome of the starvation the boy had had to endure in the household of those damn muggles. He knew that they'd had no problems starving the child for a week. And he had to deal with the after effects of this abuse now during nearly every meal, even more than three weeks after the boy had come to Hogwarts. "The cruelty your cousin and his friends showed towards you, or the actual hunger you felt?"

"Both …" Harry replied. "I was … more hungry then."

Severus nodded. He knew what the boy meant and his anger at the younger Dursley rose again up to unknown heights. He really would love to take him out of his dormitory and …

Taking a deep breath he tried to calm himself as good as possible.

"My stomach hurt …" Harry signed with shaking hands, sobbing again. "And when my uncle pulled me out later … to clean up after … after the friends were gone … I told him that my stomach hurt."

Severus cursed mentally, not wanting to startle the boy once again. Those monsters! The boy had told them. He had _told_ them! What meant that he had been younger than six or seven years old then. They were in England, for Merlin's sake! In England! Not in Africa nor in any other land where it might be normal for children to feel hunger like that!

"He beat me for saying I am hungry …" The boy finished, his eyes on the floor, and then his movements stopped and he placed his hands in his lap.

"Thank you, Harry." Snape said quietly, somehow knowing that nothing else would come, his voice barely under control and he turned the boy in his arms back towards him, placing his hand back on Harry's shoulders and running small circles on the small back.

"I'm sorry I bothered you." The boy managed to sign while in the secure embrace and Severus closed his eyes in frustration. Even while he held him as tight as he did now, Harry managed to apologize.

"You are not bothering me, Harry." He said softly. "In the contrary, I am very pleased that you told me this. I just am worried about you."

"I'm sorry I worried you." Came the reply and Severus really had to suppress an annoyed sigh.

"I guess I have to get used to this, child." He said instead, tightening his grip on the boy. "I want you to come to me at any time. Day or night. Nothing is more important to me than you. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, tears welling up in his eyes again and he turned his face towards the man's chest, ashamed of his tears and hid both, his tears as well as his face on Professor Snape's chest while he kept crying.

Harry started to relax and Severus watched as the boy in his arms drifted off to an exhausted sleep. He leaned back against the trunk of the weeping willow, pulling the boy with him until he lay across his chest, his head resting on his shoulder, and he sighed heavily.

'_There you are, Lily.'_ He thought. _'Your son made it. He survived in a hellhole for ten years. And now he is here. And I do not know how to help him.'_ He sighed, casting a desperate look towards the blue sky above him. _'Help me, Lily, so I can help your son. For I do not know what to do. I do not know if I am on the right path with the boy. He has your eyes, Lily. They are as green as yours. I just wish they were as bright as yours, my love. And I just wish he would learn to smile, so I could see if he had your smile as well.'_

The boy in his arms shuddered in his sleep and Severus placed a hand on his back. Harry sighed and became still once more. If only he were that easy to control when he was awake. Severus thought and he felt his heart swell in his chest with joy at the thought of the boy. He made his mind up. After the emotional rollercoaster they had taken this morning, well, during the past days and weeks - yes - it definitely was worth it to be a father. He would adopt the boy.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was late afternoon, judging by the light the sun sent into the small yard, and he struggled upright when he woke from the gentle squeeze Professor Snape's hand delivered to his shoulder. He had slept throughout the entire day, and that surely couldn't be good. Never before had he slept during an entire day, and would he be with the Dursleys, they would …

He was not with the Dursleys. And the Professor was not like the Dursleys …

He nevertheless looked up at the man in alarm, but Professor Snape's hand increased the pressure on his shoulder, reassuring him that everything was alright and slowly Harry's alarm began to dissipate. It was ok, he was not in trouble. He didn't know why he wasn't, but he wasn't.

So he relaxed and rested his head back against the Professor's shoulder, feeling surprisingly comfortable with the arm that was laying around his chest, holding him securely and he really did feel save right now. He would try his very hardest not to do anything that would ruin this. Safety - that was, what safety was. That was, what safety felt like.

Harry lost his train of thought as he listened to the deep silky voice of his new guardian who said that it was time to go inside and he sighed. He could lay there forever, but well, they had been laying there for nearly the entire day. Of course it had to stop at some point.

"It is time we go back inside, child." Severus said, again recognizing how untroubled and at ease the boy lay in his arms. "I want to show you something."

He pushed the boy up and stood him onto his feet before he himself got up and stretched. He had allowed his thoughts to wander for a few hours, while watching the sleeping child in his arms, knowing that he had made the right decision, until he too had fallen asleep during the sunny afternoon hours. The tree spend enough shadow and he had covered Harry's pale face and hands with a sunburn paste before they had gone outside, so he didn't have to worry about a sunburn the boy might catch and he had allowed sleep to claim him, knowing that both of them were safe here in the back yard. And he had known he would wake when the boy in his arms would stir. His sleep never was that deep.

The boy himself, who rarely slept more than two hours in a row on good days, had slept here for hours and hours now and even if he knew that he probably would be awake the entire night now, he was glad, he was happy, and it was a strange feeling but a welcoming one. It felt as welcomed as it had felt whenever he had been with Lily.

Running his hand slowly through the black mop of unruly hair, he locked his eyes into the green ones and his facial expressions softened before he placed his hand onto the boy's shoulder and guided him along the path that led back to the castle.

Harry felt a shiver run through his body when the Professor looked at him. It wasn't the piercing look he normally held in his dark eyes, nor was it the stern and harsh look. It was a strange look, one he didn't know, one he never had seen before on someone. Well, at least not cast at him. It was a look that aunt Petunia used to have when she watched Dudley.

Well, no. That too was not really correct. It was more than that. It was more than this look from aunt Petunia. This look seemed to hold so much more. But what was it? And was it a good thing? Or was it a bad thing? Was he in trouble? He nearly flinched when the professor softly ran his hand through his hair and then placed his hand onto his shoulder, steering him back towards the castle. Well, he guessed he was not in trouble.

When they reached Severus' quarters he stirred Harry not towards the couch but towards the first door to his right, the one that led to his private laboratory and he opened the dark brown wooden door, leading Harry inside. With a silent movement of his hand he lightened the candles and a soft glimmer ran through the dungeon chamber.

"That is my private potions laboratory, Harry." He said, placing both hands on the boy's shoulders when he stood behind him and Harry could hear something like pride in the dark voice. "I guess, I can allow you to learn here when we cover potions. And as you have missed the first few lessons, I will show you what potions are."

Harry was excited. He would have a lesson. And he would have a lesson in potions, the subject his guardian was teaching here at Hogwarts, a subject he seemed to love. He was a Potions Master after all. And he would have a lesson with him about potions. He smiled.

"Come over here, Harry and sit down." Severus said, placing a cutting board and a few ingredients in front of the boy and then he watched him carefully.

"Most of the ingredients we use in potions have to be cut, chopped, sliced, minced or powdered." He said, his voice calm and low. "Only thus the ingredients can unfold their abilities in the potions completely and thus interact correctly with other ingredients we use. For example, you are used to cook. Why would you smash garlic before adding it into a sauce or soup?"

Harry smiled, that was easy, and he lifted his hand to give his answer. But then – how should he explain it? He knew less than the half of the words he needed, and his smile faded.

Severus had seen the smile and he nodded. Of course the boy knew. And even before the smile on the boy's face was gone completely he had placed a piece of parchment and a quill on the table in front of the boy. "Try to write down your answer." He said.

Harry did as he was told and wrote the answer down, slowly, letter for letter, and he bit his lower lip while he tried to concentrate onto his task.

'because only then it spread the through the entire soup and I would get into trouble with aunt petunia when there were too big pieces of garlic in it'

"Correct." Severus said, even if the last part of the sentence bothered him greatly. Would the boy do as asked just because he feared he would get into trouble with him as well?

Stupid question, he thought. Of course the boy mainly would obey him only out of fear. He sighed.

"That is correct, Harry." He repeated. "With the exception that you would not get into the same trouble with me when you brew a potion not correctly. And with the exception that it is not the taste that is important but the interaction between the ingredients. But your general idea is correct. Now, the fennel we use in this potion has to be cut into slices. It has to be sliced. You have to use a sharp knife to do so. Will you be able to handle it?" He asked, not sure how the boy would react. He had not placed one of the knives in front of Harry because he didn't know if he would take it well. Remembering the cuts on the boy's back and remembering that it could have been a knife or something similar that had caused them, he feared that it could cause a panic attack.

For a brife moment he wondered what might have happened if he'd had the boy in his first potions class without the knowledge he now had. But before he could go on with this train of thoughts Harry smiled again and nodded. 'I have used knives for cooking' he slowly wrote.

Nodding Severus placed a knife in front of the boy, recognizing a short moment of fear as long as he had the knife in his own hands, but he ignored it for now. He knew he had to do something about it by a later time. Just now the boy seemed to enjoy the lesson and he did not want to destroy this. "Be careful with it, it really is sharp as we need clean cuts." Severus said. "With a blunt knife you rather would smash the ingredient you need than cutting it. And as some ingredients would give away too much of its juice then, we always use sharp knives."

The boy nodded and began to cut the fennel into fine slices and Severus watched him close. He watched every one of his first year students until he was sure they could use a knife without cutting their fingers into potion ingredients. Not openly of course, he only would destroy his reputation as a not caring bastard. But he watched them nevertheless and normally he soon knew when he just could close his eyes, unable to watch the children handling the knives and when he really had to step in.

So of course he watched Harry close. But there was no need. Neither for closing his eyes in an attempt to keep him calm, nor for fear the boy really would hurt himself. Harry handled the knife with accurate sureness. He really was pleased. Well, ok – he had to stop Harry once to explain the difference between hashing and mincing, as he didn't seem to know the difference, but otherwise he was pleased with the boy's work. Harry knew the difference between slicing, dicing and chopping, much to the contrary to the other imbciles he had as students and the pieces he made were fine and accurate.

When all the ingredients they needed were cut, powdered, or smashed, he placed them aside and lightened the fire underneath one of his cauldrons, again keeping Harry in his line of sight. He wasn't sure how Harry would react to the fire, remembering burns on the boy's arms and shoulders.

"For this special potion we need the water to boil before we add the ingredients. Do you know why?" He asked.

Harry thought for a moment.

'maybe because it is the same when you cook noodles' He then slowly wrote down.

'maybe because the ingridiens would clump otherwise or something like this' His gaze this time was an unsure one and Severus smiled.

"That is correct, Harry." He said, correcting the wrong written word with his own quill, one with red ink, and Harry smiled at the colorful ink. "Some of the ingredients we use in potions will open up sooner if added to hot water. Others need to give their effects slowly so we add them to cold water. And others would not interact with each others in cold water at all. Remember it, when we brew a potion against colds, then we need boiling water. And no, you cannot have the red ink. It is for the teachers for correcting only." He added at the curious gaze the boy cast towards his desk, searching the ink bottle that held the red ink with his eyes.

It wasn't much water and soon it was near a boiling point and Severus added the first ingredient, the honey Harry had weighed out earlier. He waited while explaining to the boy. "Stir the potion, never mind in which direction. Some potions need a special way of stirring, clockwise or anticlockwise or in form of an eight, to allow the mixture to enfold the magical abilities correctly. But not this one as we do not use magical ingredients in it. It is a simple healing potion for a cold. One that even muggles could use if they wouldn't have their own receipts."

Harry looked at the receipt that the Potions Master had written on the board on one of the walls earlier and added the crushed peppermint leaves after a few stirs, when the honey had dissipated and then he grabbed the sliced fennel. He was just about to throw them into the potion when a hand on his wrist startled him and he let loose of them, trying to pull his arm back, his heartbeat speeding up to a point it hurt.

"Hush, child." Severus whispered.

He had seen the boy adding the crushed peppermint leaves and then grabbing a handful of the sliced fennel and quickly he had taken hold at the boy's wrist, not thinking at the fact that he would startle the boy. It was a reflex he had gotten used to in order to hinder the students adding ingredients that would be dangerous. He quickly placed a weak shield charm over the cauldron when Harry opened his hand in his panic so the fennel slices would not fall in the potion but hover over the surface. Then he knelt in front of the boy, watching him close.

"Hush, child. You are not in trouble, no harm is done. Calm down and breathe." He soothed the boy, holding his shoulders and trying to give him an encouraging look with his eyes. He waited until the startled and fearful face began to relax a bit before he continued.

"That's it, child." He said. "No harm is done and you are not in trouble. You did what was written on the board and you did very well. But know that mostly you have to add the ingredients slowly. If you add them too quickly, then they cannot unfold their effects properly. When handling potions, then you have to be very careful, Harry. Potions are fantastic, but they can be very dangerous. Ingredients mixed together correctly can save your life, but they also can kill you if handled incorrectly. And even while brewing you easily could hurt yourself with the simplest mistake. It is important that you do not only follow the instructions I give on the board, but that you also know at least the basics."

"How do I know when to add them?" Harry signed, after a few more moments, after he had finally calmed down, an unsure expression on his face.

"You will know it when the potion changes. When the honey for example is dissipated, you will know it. Or when the potion changes the colour or the smell. Always wait until such happens before you go on with your next step."

The boy nodded and after a glance into the cauldron Severus simply ended the shield charm and the fennel slices fell into the cauldron.

"Add the rest of the fennel and then wait until the potion changes the smell before you add the onion dices." He said.

They worked together for half an hour longer and after the potion had cooled down Severus placed a few small bottles onto the table. "We just have to bottle the potion now and then we are finished here." He said. "You have done well and you will get a high mark for this potion."

"But I made a mistake." Harry signed, his eyes cast downwards.

"That might be, but it still was a passable attempt. You have done a good job and this potion is brewed successfully. Just remember in future, that the method is as important as the ingredients themselves when brewing. And to ease your worries, the rest of your classmates made the very same mistake with this potion. And other mistakes." He added with an annoyed sigh.

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Later, when Harry was sitting on the floor beside his bed, waiting for the Potions Master to enter his room and to say good night, what had become quite a habit by now to them, he thought over the day and he tried to smile. It had been a very good day and he felt something strange creeping through his chest. He didn't know what exactly it was, but it felt good. It was warm. And it was soft. And – well, it was strange. But it was good. _He_ felt good.

Well, nearly. His scars still itched horribly and he wanted to scratch at them. The first – and definitely bigger – problem just was, it still hurt. It still hurt when he scratched at them, and it hurt even more when he accidentally scratched them open. And the second – not quite as painful but the more irritating – problem was, he did not reach all the scars on his back.

"Do not scratch at them, Harry." Severus' voice startled him, but by now he knew the man well enough that he could be sure he wouldn't beat him because of something like scratching on his scars, so he easily calmed down and turned his face towards the door and the man.

"They still itch." He signed.

"I know, child." Severus walked into the room and took the vial with the healing oil from the table. "Get off your shirt, Harry. I will help with the itching. You should not scratch at them now." He said while he turned the boy on his shoulders so he had his back on him and then worked the potion into the small shoulders and back. "I am very pleased with the way how they are healing, but they still are sore enough so they easily could be reopened when you scratch at them too much or too hard."

"I know. I'm sorry." Harry signed. Well, the boy had his back on him, but Severus was so used to the signs by now that he understood him anyway and he smiled.

"There is no need to." He said. "Just ask for help when they are itching. It is no problem to work the oil into your back more than twice each day. It won't harm you."

"I do not want to cause trouble." Immediately the shoulders under his hands slumped and Severus sighed, ran his left hand to Harry's front and placed it onto the collarbone while he placed his right hand between the shoulder blades and forced the boy back into an upright position as he so often did during their exercises in the morning hours.

"Hush, Mr. Potter." He whispered. "You cause nothing I would not be able to handle, child. And now go to rest."

Harry scrambled into bed and the Professor grabbed the blanket and covered the boy before he sat into the chair beside the bed, taking a book to read until Harry slept. This too had come as a habit to them and both seemed quite comfortable with it.

After a few minutes however Severus noticed that Harry was struggling with something and he placed the book aside, indicating that the boy had his full attention.

"What is it, child?" He asked.

"I don't know." Harry signed, sitting up in his bed. "What … what if … what if this is just a dream?" He then asked. "Sometimes I fear … I fear that I will wake up in my cupboard."

Severus sighed. Of course the boy thought this way. He had known that this kind of conversation would come up at some point. He might not be a kind man, but compared to the Dursleys, it must be like a dream, like being in heaven. Even _he_ knew this.

"I can assure you, Harry, this is not a dream." He said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "This is as real as your life with the Dursleys had been. And you never again will wake up within a cupboard."

"But …" Harry hesitantly signed. "What … what if I have to go back?"

"You shall not go back there, Harry. Not ever." Severus sighed. He had already promised this to the boy. But well, he guessed he would have to tell this to the boy a few times more.

"But … what …" The signs got more hesitant and Severus could see fear crossing the small face. "What if uncle … what if my uncle will find me and then …" He didn't finish his sentence, but Severus knew what he wanted to know and he sighed again. So much fear, from such a small boy, he thought and he placed his hand reassuringly onto the small shoulder.

"He will not find you either, Harry." He said. "I can promise you this. He of course does know where you are, but he won't be able to enter Hogwarts without being invited or without a teacher to get him here. And no one of us would do this, I promise. You are safe here. No one will harm you while you are with me. And no one will abduct you either while you are with me."

He gave the small shoulder a squeeze and then placed his hand on the boy's chest, pushing him back onto the mattress. "And now sleep, Harry." He whispered while he placed the blanket back over the small form of the child. Of his child. "You are safe here and I will be here when you wake up." He murmured.

"You won't go away while I'm asleep?"

"I won't. I will be near when you wake up." Severus promised and with a hint of a smile on his face the boy closed his eyes.

The Potions Master touched the blankets around the child and pulled them up, tucked them tighter around the small form. It was still September but the nights started to get cold, especially down here in the dungeons.

Harry felt the pressure and opened his eyes, tiredly, watching the older wizard sleepily.

"Hush, go to sleep, child." Severus whispered. "Everything is fine." And he watched as Harry closed his eyes again and snuggled deeper into the blankets. The boy seemed so small suddenly and he couldn't resist the urge to touch Harry's forehead, brushing away a few strands of the dark hair.

For such a long time he had thought that he never would be able to love anyone again. And even now, he knew that he would never be able to love another woman. But he had begun to love this child. He had begun to love in an entire different way. He couldn't think of the boy in another way than as _his_ child. And of one thing he was sure. Harry would never go back to the Dursleys. Never ever again. This boy was sleeping in his chambers, he was living in his chambers and he had wormed his way into his heart. And he didn't mind.

He laughed softly. Whom was he trying to fool? He had not begun to love this child. He already loved him. With all his fears and doubts, with all his insecurities, with his sure name and – well, yes, even with his unruly black mop of hair.

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Filius Flitwick was sitting at his desk, grading third year students' charms essays on the theory of levitating large and heavy objects to another room when his fire flared with green flames and he hopped from his chair and went over to the grate.

Severus' head was in the fire and he lowered his head to his left in curiosity. Never before had Severus contacted him, as strange as it might sound. They were not only colleagues but both heads of houses after all. They were supposed to work hand in hand more closely than they actually did.

"How can I help you, Severus?" He asked, not able to keep the curiosity out of his voice.

"As I momentarily am not present in the great hall to discuss matters with you, I just wanted to ask if you would care to come over for a moment, Filius." The Potions Master answered, his voice low, nearly hushed and he guessed that maybe Mr. Potter was sleeping nearby. The next words confirmed his suspicions and he smiled. "Mr. Potter is sleeping, but I cannot leave him alone tonight."

Well, of course he would come over to help the poor boy. And besides – well, he never before had visited Severus' private quarters. "Make room, Severus, I come through." He said and within less than half a minute Filius Flitwick stood in Severus Snape's living area and curiously he gazed around the room, visibly surprised at what he saw.

"What did you expect, Filius?" Severus asked, amusement clearly audible in his voice. "Chains and torturing tools?"

Filius laughed softly. "Something like that, Severus." He answered, wondering why he was so comfortable with the situation.

"Well, then I have to disappoint you." Severus replied, leading him towards the sofa. "But I will do my best and next time we will meet in my private torturing chamber. Tea?"

"Yes, thank you, Severus." Filius nodded and hopped onto the sofa. He was quite surprised. The room held natural brown furniture. It was not overloaded, but it didn't give the impression of being poorly furnished either. He even had been taken aback by the sarcasm the man displayed.

Severus ordered tea from his house elf and then he seated himself into an armchair and Filius easily noticed that the Potions Master seated himself so, that he had the open door in his line of view, as well as the gazes he threw every now and then into the direction of this chamber. In which he guessed Mr. Potter was sleeping. He seemed to take it seriously, caring for the children.

"I asked you to come over because I think Mr. Potter is ready for a visit." Severus finally said and Filius nodded. It was two weeks after their last conversation and he had not thought that Severus really would take his offer seriously. He was not only startled but pleased as well that the Potions Master really seemed to confide in him.

"How is the boy doing?" He asked, keeping his voice as low as Severus.

"He is doing quite fine." His colleague answered. "As fine as he can do in his situation however. Of course he is far from being well enough to visit classes. I guess this will take us two more weeks at least. But he is healing. And his signs as well as his writings have improved immensely. He is absorbing every single information he learns like a sponge. Minerva began to explain mind-magic to him and how speechless spells are working. I guess she will start during the upcoming weekend with actually teaching him how to use speechless magic. And I began to cover potions."

"How exactly may I help?" Filius asked. He had asked himself this question before, when he had pondered about the situation of the young Mr. Potter. He of course didn't know what exactly happened to the boy and he of course didn't know how bad it was, Severus was strangely closed up concerning giving away information. But judging from the reaction Severus – and Minerva especially – gave away at the mention of Mr. Potter, and judging by the fact that after more than three weeks Mr. Potter still needed at least two more weeks before he would be back in classes, it surely was serious.

"I am covering his education in potions, defence, sign language and writing." Severus answered, casting a gaze at the open door. "Minerva will cover transfiguration, mind-magic in general, history and history of magic. As I am busy with Mr. Potter's physical therapy as well, not to mention trying to somehow get his mental state stable, I do not have the time to cover much more, even if he is my responsibility as he is in my house. Thus I ask you, if you would be able to cover charms and teach him arithmetic."

"Isn't Poppy supposed to deal with his physical therapy?" Filius asked in a low growl. If the poor boy still needed such, then it really must be worse than what he had thought.

"As Mr. Potter still fears Poppy – for reasons I still do not know – he refuses to work together with her." Severus answered, his voice a tad colder now and Filius lowered his head to his left.

"I did not mean it as a criticism, Severus." He said, knowing that the Potions Master had gotten his words the wrong way. "I just wondered. And I might have been sounding angry, because I guess, if Mr. Potter still needs such as physical therapy, then it must be graver than what I have thought."

"My apology." Severus said and Filius waved it off.

"Of course I will cover charms and arithmetic." He said. "Where does the boy stand in handling numbers?"

"To be honest, Filius, I do not know." Severus answered. "I did not have the time to cover anything else than his health and potions up to now. Even such simple things as eating a meal is a struggle each time as his stomach is not used to food. Nor is his mind as he still fears to take any food by his own. Today it was the first time I could deem it safe to take him outside these quarters without causing a panic attack. A lot depends onto the pace in which we handle him. He needs time to get used to new things. Thus I think it wise if you would just come over for tea tomorrow evening if you could spend the time."

"Of course, Severus." Filius answered. "It is not my turn to check the corridors tomorrow night, thus I have time. Will Minerva be here as well?"

"A moment, please." Severus said, his attention focused onto the open door and he got up, walked towards the chamber, disappearing in the room and curiosity took the upper hand.

Filius hopped down the sofa and he followed the Potions Master, stood beside the doorway and peered into the room.

Mr. Potter was laying in a bed that seemed much too big for him and Severus was sitting beside him on the edge of the bed.

Harry moved to half sit up when Severus entered the room, his eyes half closed with sleep and he sat beside the boy, gently placing his hand on Harry's forehead, stroking some of the black strands out of his face.

"Hush, child." He whispered.

"You said you would be here." Harry signed, watching him warily through tired eyes and Severus smiled.

"I _am_ here, child." He answered. "I won't leave you alone. I was just outside the room but I kept your door open. You woke and I was beside you before you even could sit up. I am here."

The boy smiled and seemed to be satisfied with the answer, maybe just due to his sleepiness, but Severus didn't care. He just kept stroking his thumb over the boy's root of the nose, just between his eyes so he wouldn't wake up fully.

"Go back to sleep, child." He whispered soothingly. "I am here."

He waited a few minutes until he was sure that Harry was back to sleep before he got up and left the room, went back to Filius. He wasn't really surprised to see the smaller man standing beside the doorframe, he nevertheless lifted his eyebrow in curiosity.

"You know, Severus, it is a pity to see how much trouble you take, just to make yourself disliked." Filius smiled. "When at the same time you are not as cold as you always pretend to be."

"If you taught a subject where at every moment something might explode and kill everyone in the room, you maybe would understand." He growled. "Not to mention that being the head of a house that holds more abused children than all the other houses placed together and that is shunned, does nothing to invoke the wish of me losing my reputation. I am quite pleased with the situation as it is, and if you just consider to give this bit of information away, then you will find yourself in my private torturing chamber sooner than later."

That was new to him, Filius wondered while he chuckeld at Severus' last comment. Slytherin? The house of the abused children? Most of them were arrogant and quite bullying. But then – they all wore just masks. And he never had seen behind those masks.

"Wouldn't it be wiser to get a … friendlier teacher for those children? No offence, Severus, but you are not the kindest man."

"I do know this, Filius." Severus answered with a dark smirk. "But do you really think those children need pity? Believe me, they do not. They need someone who lead them away from their fear. They need someone who show them how to cope with what had been done to them. And they need someone who is able to get them to talk and to admit what they had been forced to endure instead of bottling everything up and burying it under layers and layers of hate. They all might fear me to a point, yes, because I do not allow them to hide from their fears and from their pains, because I force them to see it as that what it is. But in the end they all are able to go on with their lives. Even if it is with a mask displayed in front of others. A mask that allow my students to keep the last remnants of their dignity, because they do not have such at home."

"I guess you are used to such then, Severus. Having abused children in your house." Filius said and he noticed that this was a subject which Severus wasn't really comfortable with. Yet – he didn't mind. He wanted to know more. This man seemed to understand more than he had given him credit for. Up to two weeks earlier he always had wondered why Albus had given the post as head of Slytherin and Potions Teacher to Severus, to a Death Eater. But now - this man seemed to be able to handle even problem children. Then - was that the reason why he wasn't able to handle normal children? The children form the other houses?

"I never will get used to it." Severus growled darkly. "And I do not know why I am shocked over and over again."

"Why is it, Severus, that you are able to handle those children with such a care, where the children of the other houses complain about your cruelness?" Flitwick asked strait away.

Severus laughed and for a few moments he just watched the Charms Professor.

"Because none of the other teachers give credit to my students." Severus growled still darkly. "Because every one of the other children shun my students. And because my students are thus damaged that they _need_ to know that at least one person stands behind them, no matter what. But contrary to common believes, I do punish my students for misdeeds. But I do it in privacy. And I do it individually. I cannot give a child that has been used as a house elf at home detention in form of cleaning cauldrons, Filius. And I cannot give a child that has been neglected and starved at home a detention without at least something to eat, something to drink and physical comfort. Or they would never trust me, they would mistake me for the poor excuses of parents they have the misfortune to have. Do you understand what I want to say? You all give detentions without considering which child it is you give this detention to, without looking at the background of this child. And I am the one who has to straighten it out afterwards."

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**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_A conversation with Albus regarding the adoption and worries over how to keep Harry safe during the summer holidays._

_A conversation with Nott._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you


	21. arguments and determination

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

I as well have to say a special thanks to Lucius - whoever it is as he has not been logged in while reviewing - who has given an answer for every single chapter during one night. Thank you, Lucius for your great honour of my work.

and thank you to every other one who up to now gave a review to each chapter ...

**Added Note:**

.oO( … yes … it still is there … )

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question and scrutinize every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"But contrary to common believes, I do punish my students for misdeeds. But I do it in privacy. And I do it individually. I cannot give a child that has been used as a house elf at home detention in form of cleaning cauldrons, Filius. And I cannot give a child that has been neglected and starved at home a detention without at least something to eat, something to drink and physical comfort. Or they would never trust me, they would mistake me for the poor excuses of parents they have the misfortune to have. Do you understand what I want you to say? You all give detentions without considering which child it is you give this detention to, without looking at the background of this child. And I am the one who has to straighten it out afterwards."_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter twenty-one**

**Arguments and determination**

It was tiring.

Not only the fact that the boy still refused to sleep properly out of his fear he would suffer from nightmares, and not only because the boy still had problems with his eating habits, even if he ate willingly meanwhile. But he had to watch his ever movements in order to not startle Harry. He had to ensure to always keep his face and his voice even in order to not frighten the boy. And he had to think over every step he took with the child.

This boy was a master in watching him and in trying to read him.

_'Of course he was, you idiot!'_ A small voice in a far corner of his mind whispered. _'That's his only chance to have a clue if you're angry, if he's in trouble and if he better runs for his dear life.'_

However, he also had to carefully consider every potion he gave him, knowing that Harry would need some different potions, but knowing that he still was too thin and underweight to give him too much of them at once. He had to carefully consider which potions would be really important and which one he could start later with.

And then all the nightmares the boy suffered from. Severus even had to set nightly wards on the boy's room in order to know when Harry needed to be comforted as he himself had begun to set silencing charms around his bed. He knew it was unconsciously, as a first year student surely didn't know how to do such. It was the boy's accidental magic. Nevertheless he had told him that he did not wish him to do so, that he wished to know it when Harry had a nightmare in order to be able to help him.

But it had been useless. The boy nevertheless cast them – in his sleep. He wasn't even aware of doing this. He only knew that he had to be silent so he would not wake him. As he had known that he should be silent in order to not wake his relatives back at Privet Drive. The boy might know that he was not his uncle, but he didn't feel it yet, and he still couldn't see him as someone different.

He didn't blame Harry for it. The child had lived with all those horrors for much too long, for years, and of course he would not be able to think otherwise of him after just a few weeks. Nevertheless Severus felt …

He felt pain in his chest.

As strange as it was to him, but he felt pain. Not only the pain of being feared by the child, but – he also felt Harry's pain so clearly as if it were his own. Whenever the boy was in pain, whenever he had a panic attack, whenever he felt desperate – then he, Severus, felt the pain as if it were his own.

Placing the mug of tea onto the coffee table in front of him he got to his feet and then to the fireplace. He had made his mind up. He had made his mind up earlier during this week already, but he felt that it was time to take action and throwing a handful of floo powder into the fire he called for Poppy.

"I have something to discuss with the headmaster." He said when the matron came into his line of view. "Are you free to come over?"

"Of course, Severus." The woman answered. "I will be there in five minutes."

Throwing another hand full of floo powder into the fire, he called Minerva and soon the deputy headmistress answered his call.

"I have to discuss something with Albus. Would you be free, Minerva, to accompany me?" He asked, his voice unsure. "I would like you to be present."

"Of course, Severus." Minerva answered and from her reaction he could tell that he really must sound strange. She cast a searching look at him and he was sure the woman would have asked him if he was well, if she wouldn't have known that she would get an answer to her question soon. Minerva definitely looked concerned. "The boy?" She asked.

"Poppy will be here in a minute." Severus answered. "I suggest we meet in Albus' office."

Minerva nodded and Severus retreated from the fireplace. He cast a thoughtful gaze towards the boy's door before he grabbed his teacher's robe and then left his quarters when Poppy arrived. He wanted to make clear that this was not a private meeting out of fun.

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"Severus. Minerva." Albus greeted the two teachers after he had invited them into his office upon their knock. "What a pleasant surprise. Take a seat. Lemon drop?"

"No, thank you, Albus." Minerva said, taking a seat in front of the headmaster's desk, curious as to why Severus had invited her to this discussion and what the subject of it would be. Severus hadn't told her anything. They had met in front of the gargoyle and Severus' face had been set, serious and grim, a strange gleam of determination in his eyes.

"Thank you, Albus, but no." Severus answered, and he remained standing behind the second chair, as always.

Albus sighed. He was quite used to the fact that Severus never took a seat, that he always, never mind what and never mind where, remained standing. Even during the stuff meetings Severus remained standing most of the time. It really was rarely that he took a seat then, and if he did, he did so in a corner, remaining in the shadows, away from the other teachers.

"What brings you this way on this fine afternoon?" Albus asked, his ever present twinkling in his eyes nearly driving Severus mad. "Surely Harry is well? I understand that he is better since some time."

"Mr. Potter is as well as his situation allows him to be." Severus answered, annoyance clearly audible in his voice. "I merely wished to inform you, that I intend to adopt him." He explained, coming to the point quickly as always.

Albus grew serious, the twinkling in his eyes nearly gone and his face seemed to become somewhat sad.

Minerva beside him gasped in shock and she stared at him, but then she smiled happily. "Those are great news, Severus." She said, and he could see that she had trouble remaining in his seat instead of hugging him and he felt a short moment of horror at the thought before he inclined his head at her.

"I will send the papers to the ministry this evening, Albus." He said, turning back to the headmaster. "So they hold them in their hands by tomorrow morning. From earlier experiences in adoption from some of my Slytherins by other families, I guess it will take two or three weeks for them to check the papers."

"I am sorry to disappoint you, my dear boy." Albus shook his head and he really sounded sad. "But I fear that will not be possible."

"I beg your pardon, Albus?" Minerva turned to the headmaster. "Personally I think that a great idea."

"And it would be, Minerva if there were not special circumstances which we have to regard."

"And that - would be which, Albus?" Severus drawled, his voice and his face both calm, but inwardly he was furious, he was desperate and he felt the same pain he felt in the boy's presence.

For a moment he stood there, afraid that the greatest wizard of this time would tell him that he could not keep Lily's child, _his _child. The child that had wormed himself inside his heart and for a moment he tried to look for words that would help him to express all the boy meant to him. But then he dismissed the thought. That was not Albus' buisness. It was private.

"Well, Severus." Albus turned towards him, fixed him with an intense stare. "There are special circumstances concerning Harry's safety. I thought it through over and over during the past days, but there is no other option. The boy has to go back to the Dursleys."

"You surely cannot be serious …" Minerva began but Severus came closer and placed his hands atop the surface of the desk in front of the headmaster, leaning close. His face was set and for a moment Albus knew why Severus was a man that was feared. And he knew why Severus always remained standing, just so he could move quicker to threaten his opponents.

"He will _not_, Albus." He growled darkly and his voice held no waver. "Absolutely _not_."

"I am sorry, my dear boy, but it simply is not possible." Albus said. Of course he was not intimidated by the Potions Master. He just was reminded that one should not cross the dark man lightly.

"And that would be – why? Albus?" Severus seethed.

"Only in this house and with his relatives the boy will be safe from the …"

"I beg your pardon, Albus? That …" Minerva couldn't believe the headmaster said those words.

"Save, Albus?" Severus growled, leaning closer, ignoring Minerva and his eyes flashed dangerously. "The boy won't be safe there and you _know_ this, old man. I will have none of this. Mr. Potter will _not_ go back there and Mr. Potter will be adopted by me."

"Listen to me, Severus." Albus did not lean back from the threatening Potions Master, nor did he seem to be impressed in any other way. "When Lily died to safe her son, ancient magic was released. Ancient magic that allowed us to set blood wards around the house."

"Surely those wards can be transferred to any other house or estate." Severus growled, not backing away.

"I am afraid, Severus, but that is not possible." Albus shook his head. "Those blood wards, they need the presence of his relatives who share to same blood than the boy to remain intact and activated. Only thus they can work against the danger from any wizard who would want to harm the boy."

"And, pray tell, old man, do those blood wards work against the muggles who would want to harm the boy?" Severus asked.

"I have to admit, the won't. Nevertheless, Harry must …"

"He – will – not – headmaster!" Severus growled and he slammed his hand onto the desk with a startling force. Even Minerva flinched and placed her hand above her chest. "I do not care about your blasted blood wards, headmaster!" He seethed, staring at the older wizard. "I will adopt the boy and my blood will protect him as much as the blood of his relatives, if he won't be even safer this way as there is no love from them for Mr. Potter."

"Severus has a point, Albus." Minerva said. "I know how blood wards work. And I would not be surprised if they have not already failed. Blood wards cast with such a sacrifice as Lily's, build with the love of a dying mother to protect her child, they need not only the blood of the relatives but further love of said relatives as well. Their willingness to do such child the same favour."

"As it is, Albus, Mr. Potter would not survive there during the next summer anyway." Severus growled.

"He has survived there for ten years." Albus said, still calm.

"You love to cut it short, don't you, headmaster?" Severus sneered, sarcasm dropping from his voice and his eyebrow lifted at Albus. "Considering the fact at _how_ close to death Mr. Potter has been when we found out about the abuse?"

"He will have to life there only during the summer, for only two month, Severus. Not another ten years." Albus tried to argue with his Potions Teacher.

"I do not care how long Mr. Potter would be there." Severus sneered. "He will _not_ go back, headmaster. Not for one single day."

"Severus, take reason …"

"Tell me, headmaster, would you decide the same way, would Mr. Potter be a Gryffindor?" The Potions Master asked, taking a deep breath.

"That was uncalled for, Severus." Albus' voice was low and subdued.

"No, headmaster, it was not." Severus answered, anger clearly audible in his own low voice. "You always seem to oversee and to dispatch the abuse of the Slytherins with a twinkling of your eyes and you seem to learn nothing out of your mistakes."

"Albus. Severus is right. Mr. Potter may have survived there for ten years, but he not only was close to death when he arrived here, he also did not have a life there that any child deserved."

"I know this, Minerva, but that is of no importance. He … there are things, Minerva, I cannot explain to you. But he is destined to be a strong wizard once. He …"

"I begin to see, Albus." Severus said with a low and calm voice while he straightened up. "You do not mean for Mr. Potter to live. You only mean for him to survive."

Minerva cast a questioning look at him and then at the headmaster and Albus too looked shocked.

"Severus." He begged. "Surely that is not what you think."

"It is, headmaster." Severus said. "For you the boy is nothing else than a weapon you plan to train and then to throw into a war in which he only would die. But I have to inform you, that nothing of this will happen. I did not come to you to ask for your permission regarding the adoption of Mr. Potter. I came to you to inform you about it. I _will_ adopt him, and if you further intend to refrain me from doing so, then I suggest you take haste in looking for a new Potions Master and head of Slytherin House."

"You really would leave Hogwarts, Severus?" Albus asked, now really taken aback. "And abandon your students and Harry?"

"The students in Slytherin surely will find help from any other head of house you will employ, as only a Slytherin can take over this position and every former Slytherin student will do his or her best, knowing what it means to be a Slytherin. And regarding Mr. Potter, I am sure you are aware of the fact that I of course would take him with me as I already have guardianship over the boy. I surely do not have to remind you that there are other wizarding schools existing over the world."

There was silence for more than just a minute and both, Albus and Minerva watched him with a mixture of unbelieving shock and sadness. But then Albus pinched the bridge of his nose. Severus could be amazingly stubborn and blind-sighted when he chose to be. While he respected the younger man deeply and admired his bravery, he was too consumed with what was in his mind sometimes. And this time, it was taking the young Mr. Potter in, adopting him.

Well, if Severus really adopted Harry, then he would not have to deal with the fact that he had to tell Severus …

Well, it was easier this way. Severus would adopt Harry, and Harry then – well, nothing would happen, it would be the same, as if Harry had been Severus' son. He wouldn't have to tell Severus the truth and he wouldn't have to pull the man's wrath onto him.

"Very well, Severus." The headmaster finally said. "If this truly is your wish, then be it. But I insist that we first take steps to ensure Harry's safety when we remove him from his relatives permanently."

"I will have a word with Filius later today and I am sure he will know of a few charms about protection."

"I too know of a few enchantments about protection and I am sure Severus will know enough about wards in general so we can ensure Mr. Potter's safety. If my memory serves me right, then Severus cast already strong wards onto the library when he was studying there in his first year during night times." Minerva smiled into the Potions Master's direction and Severus growled at her.

Albus chuckled, his mood lightly as if there had been no argument at all and Severus cast a dark glance at him.

"If this truly is what you want, my boy," the headmaster sighed, "then of course you will have my support. We just have to ensure that no harm will come over Harry. You do not know how important he will be for the wizarding world one day."

"If he is so important, headmaster, then I suggest you should take his health a bit more serious than you did in the past." Severus growled darkly at the older wizard, not ready yet to forgive him, not ready yet to call him by his given name as he normally did.

"The boy has to be prepared, Severus." Albus said. "He has to become strong. He cannot be coddled and kept from the harshness of life."

"Do I really look like a man who would coddle and pamper any child?" Severus sneered in disgust. "But at least the boy will have a future while he will have a chance to survive in the first place. At least the boy will not be beaten to death. And at least the boy will not be starved to death."

Minerva nearly laughed. "You? coddling a child? In the contrary, Severus. I have at least one Gryffindor each day that I have to calm down after a potions class."

"That might be because of the fact that your Gryffindors are not ready to learn anything I try to teach them, Minerva." Severus growled at her. "It would be much easier if they finally learned how dangerous this subject is and that any mistake easily could not only blow up the classroom but half of the castle. Do you know how many of your students I have to stop adding dangerous ingredients until it is time to add them? They just would have to follow the instructions."

"I know, Severus." Minerva sighed. "You are right, and I will have a word with them. But that surely is not the reason we are here now. I think just now Mr. Potter's future is more important."

"Correct." Severus growled. "I will have a word with Filius now, if you excuse me, headmaster."

"Of course, Severus." Albus sighed. "And have my apology if I sounded uncaring earlier. I do care. I just do not wish Harry to fall into the Death Eater's hands, or in Voldemort's if he returns."

"And you do not think me capable of keeping Mr. Potter safe from my former colleagues?" Severus asked, his eyes fixed onto Albus for a moment before he turned and left the office.

Minerva shook her head and followed the Potions Master after a short "good afternoon, Albus. You know, Severus is right".

"Might I accompany you, Severus?" She asked while they both passed the gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office. Severus only inclined his head and Minerva accepted his grumpy behaviour without question. This man really loved the boy he had under his care and the discussion with the headmaster surely had done no good to his already strained nerves.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"May I ask you a question, Severus?" Minerva silently asked after they had walked through the corridors for a few minutes without a word.

"You already do, Minerva." The Potions Master answered, his voice as low as the Transfiguration Teacher's.

"You know what I mean, Severus." Minerva sighed, rolling her eyes.

"I do." Severus smirked. "Ask your question."

"Would Mr. Potter be in Gryffindor instead of in Slytherin, would you act the same then? Would you then care as much as you do now?" The woman walking beside him asked and he sighed.

"I am sure, Minerva, would Mr. Potter be in Gryffindor, then you would have seen the signs of his abuse and you would have acted. You saw them with me." He sighed.

"Maybe." Minerva mused. "Maybe not. I didn't see them in the first place this time. But would you have been willing then to give him your support if he were not in Slytherin? Even if he were in Gryffindor? If I had not seen the signs? Or if I had not been able to handle it?"

Severus stopped in his steps and turned towards the Transfiguration Teacher. He placed his hand on the woman's shoulder and his dark eyes fixed her seriously.

"Mr. Potter is a student at Hogwarts, Minerva." He said, ignoring her startled look when he placed his hand on her shoulder. "And yes, if I would see signs of abuse in any student of your house, or in a student of any other house, then I would have acted in the very same way. I would have to be more carefully and I would have to take extra care so I would not give away my position as a spy to some of the Death Eater children. But I would care as much as I do now. I might not be a kind man, nor might I be a friend of your Gryffindors, but I not only am a teacher. I detest child abuse. Abuse in general. But there is nothing worse existent in this world than to mistreat a child that is helpless."

Minerva still blinked at him in near shock. Not only had the Potions Master whom every one feared given her his reassurance that he always would be of help, no matter what. No, he had touched her. He had placed his hand onto her shoulder. Not that she minded. But he never, since all the time as a teacher here at Hogwarts, he never had done such a thing. Not even to her, and she was – besides of Albus – the closest human to him. And that meant something. But now he had done so. He had placed his hand onto her shoulder to reassure her in her fears, in her doubts, in her line of thinking. Whatever it was.

"Thank you, Severus." She said, not sure if she meant his reassurance or if she meant his hand on her shoulder.

Severus inclined his head towards her and then released her shoulder, continued to walk towards the door of the Ravenclaw office that was just a few steps away from them.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Filius Flitwick looked at the door in pure shock of what he had heard.

_"Mr. Potter is a student at Hogwarts, Minerva. And yes, if I would see signs of abuse in any student of your house, or in a student of any other house, then I would have acted in the very same way. I would have to be more carefully and I would have to take extra care so I would not give away my position as a spy to some of the Death Eater children. But I would care as much as I do now. I might not be a kind man, nor might I be a friend of your Gryffindors, but I not only am a teacher. I detest child abuse. Abuse in general. But there is nothing worse existent in this world than to mistreat a child that is helpless."_

Yes, of course he had already changed some views of how he saw Severus. During the past few days he often had wondered what was behind the mask the Potions Teacher always displayed. And a mask it was, of that he was sure now.

But that he cared about all the students? Not only about his Slytherins?

Well, as it seemed he never stopped learning when it came to this man.

The knock on his door startled him out of his thoughts. Of course he had heard Minerva and Severus talking in the corridor close to his office, as his hearing was quite perfect. But he had not thought they might _visit him_.

"Come in." He called, trying to get his surprise back under control. He was an open man, not as closed up as Severus who never showed his emotions.

"Good afternoon, Filius." Severus greeted him when he entered his office, as did Minerva.

"What a surprise, Minerva, Severus. Sit down, sit down. May I offer you some tea?" Filius asked excited.

"That would be welcomed, Filius, thank you." Severus answered and he barely was able to suppress a smirk.

"Thank you, yes, Filius." Minerva answered and sat in one of the armchairs in front of the desk while Severus remained standing – as always.

"We came because we have some questions about wards, Filius. Protective wards concerning a child without parents."

"You do not happen to speak of Mr. Potter, Severus?" The small teacher asked.

"In fact, I do." Severus answered, taking the cup of tea a house elf brought.

"But Mr. Potter would be safe here under the wards of Hogwarts." Filius blinked at him in confusion. "This castle is one of the best warded places in the wizarding world. I am sure he does not need added wards."

"Not here, Filius." Severus said, fixing the Charms Teacher with his dark eyes and slowly Filius nodded.

"I see." He said. "He has to leave the castle during the summer break. Does Albus plan to send him back to his relatives?"

"He intended to." Minerva said. "But Severus was able to prevent that."

"The boy had blood wards surrounding the house of his relatives." Filius mused. "I myself have placed them on Albus' orders. But considering the fact that he has been abused there, I am sure they would not even keep a wizard's dog to enter them."

"That is what I told Albus." Minerva nodded, taking a sip of the tea.

"Where will Mr. Potter live during the summer break?"

"Prince Manor." Severus answered and Filius looked at him in pure shock before he smiled. Wonders never ceased, he thought.

"You will take Mr. Potter in, Severus?"

"As to be correct, Filius, I plan to adopt Mr. Potter." The Potions Master answered and this time Filius really chocked on the sip of tea he had taken.

"You …" The Charms Teacher blinked. "Well, then I guess there will be no problems at all. It will be quite easy."

"You mean the blood wards could be transferred to Prince Manor as soon as the adoption is completed and my blood is running through the boy's veins?"

"No." Filius shook his head. "The blood wards are useless."

"But Albus said …" Minerva began confused but she was stopped by Filius who raised his hand and shook his head.

"The blood wards surely had done their job as long as the boy had not been abused there." He explained. "But as soon as the abuse began in this household by his relatives and on this boy, they failed. And blood wards, if failed thus, cannot be replaced. Nor transferred. They are destroyed. They are useless."

"I already thought so." Severus murmured, taking a sip of the tea and he lifted his eyebrow in surprise at the small man behind the desk.

"Tea of pears with grape sugar." Filius said. "I get it from my brother who lives in Norway."

Severus lifted his eyebrow and nodded. "It's not a bad one." He said. "However, I thought of the _fides filia_ wards and the _ne quid invadere_ wards. What would you insist to add."

Filius looked at him for a while, a strange expression on his face but then he nodded. "Both are very powerful wards. The _fides filia_ is an ancient ward, as old as the wizarding race itself, one of the most powerful I know as it is destined to protect children, those who are helpless and in need of protection. The downside of it is, that the child has to be present within those wards for at least three month a year. But if you chose the _fides filia_, the wards to protect children, then I would be able to combine it with the _fidelius _charm. I could add the _fidelius _within a few hours after you have chosen your secret keeper."

"What would be Minerva, if that is amenable with you." Severus answered, turning his attention towards the woman.

"I …" Minerva gasped in near shock. "You would …"

"We are quite eloquent today, aren't we, Minerva?" Severus smirked at her, watching her with a questioning gaze in his dark eyes.

Minerva huffed. But then she smiled at him warmly. "Of course I would, Severus. It would be an honour."

The Potions Master inclined his head towards her and Filius clapped his hands enthusiastically. "Then the _ne quid invadere_. It requires a drop of blood from each member that lives within those wards. Do you intend on a regular adoption or a blood adoption, Severus?"

"Blood adoption, of course." Severus growled.

"That is excellent. Really excellent. I see you have chosen wisely. The _ne quid invadere_ combined with the blood adoption would be strengthened by the shared blood that runs through both of your veins." Filius said happily. "There wouldn't be anything I could add to this one. However, I would insist on a three-link-enchantment. You need a third ward for this, Severus, and I would insist on a simple _protego _ward. I cast the charms, the _fidelius _for the loyalty of a friend, the _ne videri_, what would make the estate unplottable and the _securitas_, what would make the estate to a safe house. And if there were something Minerva could add, it would be perfect. She as your secret keeper – those wards would be one of the strongest wards imaginable. I think, not even Hogwarts' wards are that strong."

"I think – I could add protection using runes." Minerva said, musing. "Runes do hold very strong magic if placed with understanding of the symbols and the knowledge of how to set them. It is a simple and old kind of magic and I in fact would need three runes. And I think, I even could include Mr. Potter. I guess it would not only be fun for him to carve his own rune, but it would strengthen those wards also as the child that is to be protected is included. Yes, I am sure that would be perfect."

Severus nodded with a thoughtful expression on his face. He knew that runes held a very powerful kind of magic. They were ancient and they were efficient and unswerving. The _fidelius _would work perfectly with his own wards, and the wards he had chosen, well, the _ne quid invadere_, as simple as this one was, it was one of the strongest, stronger even as the Dark Lord's wards had been, as the Dark Lord never insisted on something as simple as one of the oldest protection wards. The only estate he knew that stood under the _ne quid invadere_, was Hogwarts castle and he guessed that not even Albus was aware of them.

The castle kept its own wards since the time of the four founders, it only needed the headmaster to keep those wards in place and fully intact. But the headmaster did not choose the wards. The magic that ran through the old masonry of the castle, strengthened with the magic of hundreds of children who lived there for the most part of the year, this magic that ran through the corridors of the old castle, it was able to keep the wards strong and intact, even if the headmaster was not present for three weeks in a row.

He smiled.

Yes, Albus was a very powerful wizard. And he was a very intelligent wizard. But wards never had been his strength. What those damn blood wards at Privet Drive clearly showed. They might have been acceptable for keeping the Death Eaters that were on the loose away, but they did not protect Harry from his relatives. Albus should have added the _fides filia_.

And the _protego _wards Filius had insisted, they were simple but ancient and powerful as well. It was a similar kind of magic as had been the protection Lily had given when she was ready to die for her son. It would require his own willingness to die for Harry in order to protect the child. And he _was_ willing.

With a thoughtful gaze he watched Filius. Had the Charms Teacher known that he was ready to die for the boy? Filius never had held much of him. But why would he otherwise have insisted those special wards? Those wards would not work without his willingness to die for the boy. And Filius surely knew this. But surely Filius did not think this high of him.

"When would be the best time to place all the wards?" He asked. "For the wards in general there is no special time required to gain full protection."

"Nor is for the runes. In contrary to common believing, rune magic can be used at every time with the same effects." Minerva answered.

"As is with charms." Filius nodded. "So, in other words, we could place the wards as soon as you have the adoption papers back, Severus. I really am happy, my friend. I guess those are one of the best news concerning young Mr. Potter."

Again Severus blinked at the small teacher. Filius sounded quite – fond of him. But why would he? They never got along well. They worked together as head of houses, and they were able to do so without killing each other, but they did not like each other. In the contrary. Filius never trusted him, and he never believed Albus that he was a spy. He did not understand it.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Even later and back in his own office Severus was not able to keep his line of thoughts off the small Charms Teacher. The man had surprised him today more than anything else. Not even Albus' refusal had surprised him as much. Somehow he'd had the feeling that Albus might try to get him off his plans with Harry. At least he had known that Albus knew about the abuse.

A soft knock at his door pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked up, sighing. Finally!

He had felt the wards that were placed around his office shift earlier, knowing that someone had been on the way to visit him. But no one had knocked on his door and from the kind of the shift he had felt he knew that it was a student.

A student that had entered his wards but did not knock now. Thus was standing on the other side of his door and most highly questioning him- or herself. In other words, most likely a Death Eater child searching for help. And most likely a first year, as the older students either already had addressed him during the years or were willing to follow their parent's path.

Thus – standing outside since at least a half an hour was either Mr. Nott, Draco or Miss Greengrass.

"Enter." He called out and the door slowly opened, revealing Theodore Nott.

"Good evening, Mr. Nott." Severus greeted. "With what might I be able to help you?"

"Good evening, Professor." The boy murmured. "Well … I … I thought, maybe you had a few minutes?"

"Take a seat, Mr. Nott." Severus said, pointing at the chair in front of the desk and he placed the piece of parchment aside to ensure the boy he had his full attention. Nevertheless there were a few moments of silence before Theodore Nott looked up at him, a mixture of fear, despair and determination on his face. Yet – he didn't say anything.

"You do look healthier than last we had a conversation, Mr. Nott. How are you?" Severus began, just to take some of the pressure of the silence away for the moment. He would play with this pressure later, but just now he wanted the boy to relax a bit so he would at least start talking.

"I am better, thank you, sir." Theodore said, averting his eyes. It was clear that the boy did not want to talk about his abuse at the hand of his father, not at all. But Severus never allowed them to flee the confrontation and they all knew this. He had made it clear to the boy during their last conversation two weeks earlier, shortly after the first Saturday morning meeting.

"I take it Madam Pomfrey is pleased with your health also?" Severus asked. "Or is there anything I should be informed of?"

"No, sir." The boy shook his head. "Madam Pomfrey said I'm fine now. Even … well, even the nerves are back to normal."

The Potions Master nodded. Nott Senior had changed to cast dark spells onto the boy to punish him if he was displeased in him as soon as the arrival at Hogwarts neared. Wounds from a beating were easily detected. The cruciatus was not. But the nerve damage done by it was as long lasting as injuries from a severe beating.

"I am pleased to hear that, Mr. Nott." Severus said, carefully leaning forwards. Theodore Nott was one of his students with which he had to be careful. One of those he always kept a safe desk between them and his hands either behind his back or entirely visible to the boy. And his wand out of sight entirely. He sighed.

All those little things he had to mind avoiding, things that others made unconsciously, it was more than tiring. Sometimes, at every start of term, it was just exhausting. It would get easier, he knew, as soon as Mr. Nott and Miss Greengrass had learned that there was nothing they would have to fear from him. But until then, it was a long and a hard path to go.

Last week Miss Greengrass for example had had a breakdown after Minerva had touched her hand to correct her wand movements during Transfiguration. Miss Greengrass had fled the classroom and after Minerva had informed him he had found her in her dormitory, hiding under the covers of her bed. It had taken him quite a time to get her to come forth and to talk with him.

Minerva had apologized later to him, as she now knew about the abused children in his house, and she had told him it would be much easier if she knew which of his students had been abused so she would know whom she could touch, and whom not. He had agreed and given her the names with the reminder that she better did not address those students with her knowledge.

Of course the Slytherins kept themselves upright and never showed their fear. And thus the other teachers rarely had problems with his students. But sometimes the girls had to learn that at first and the only thing he could hope in such a situation as he'd had with Miss Greengrass last week - he only could hope that the girls would not fear him even more because he was male. Well, sometimes his hopes were for naught as he had learned with the girl last week and he barely had been able to keep his anger at Miss Greengrass' uncles under control in order to not frighten her more.

"You said, as the head of my house, you are to keep me safe, sir?" Theodore finally began, pulling him out of his thoughts and watching the Potions Master warily.

"Yes, I am to keep you safe, Mr. Nott. As the head of your house, it lays in my responsibility to not only keep you safe but to help you with any problems that might occur or with any ailments that may befall you." Severus answered, knowing what the boy wanted to know and knowing that he had to be very carefully in this conversation, but glad that the boy had come to him.

"No matter what kind of problems that might be, sir?" Theodore asked carefully.

"No matter what kind of problems that might be, Mr. Nott." Severus confirmed.

There was a pause in which Theodore seemed to be very interested in the floor beneath his feet.

"Well … even if that would go against everything you believe in, sir?" The boy wanted to know.

"Mr. Nott." Severus sighed, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms in front of his chest. "I do believe in many things. I for example believe in the ancient rule that a child is to be kept safe. I for example believe in wisdom, knowledge and learning. I believe in honesty and justice. What do you believe in, Mr. Nott?"

"I don't know, sir." Theodore shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe in kindness. Or in helping others."

Severus nodded. "Well, I personally do not believe in kindness. But I do believe in giving support to those who need aid too. Do you see what I mean?"

"Not really, sir." Theodore answered carefully.

Severus was sure that he knew perfectly well what he tried to tell him. The boy only tried to play for time. He nearly could see the wheels in his mind working so hard that surely soon steam would come out of his ears.

"Well, Mr. Nott." He said. "Not everyone believes in the same things. We all are different, and we all believe in different things. Some of them might be similar or the same, others might be different. Sometimes, what we believe in is related or do overlap with others. Sometimes they do not. Do you now understand what I mean?"

"Yes, sir." The boy answered unsurely. "I guess I do."

"What is it I mean, Mr. Nott?"

"That everyone makes their own decisions? Sir?"

"Exactly, Mr. Nott. You gained yourself a praemii." Severus nodded. "Everyone has his or her own believes. And everyone makes his or her own decisions. Some of them might be right, and some of them might be wrong. But in the first place we make them. And we always have a chance to make our own decisions, no matter what. Because we alone are responsible for the decisions we make. We alone and no one else. Not your father, not your mother, not your friend and not your teacher. No one but you alone."

Again there was silence for a few moments. The boy nodded, but he gave no answer, held his gaze at the front of Severus' desk, avoiding his eyes.

Knowing that silence could be a much more triggering thing than some other tricks, the Potions Master watched the boy patiently and without asking a question, without saying anything more.

"Well …" Theodore finally continued when the silence became too intimidating. "There are things I do not believe in, but a lot of others do, sir. My father, you as my head of house, the father of my friend. Would you even keep me safe if I would … well …" Nott broke up, lowering his eyes away from the desk and back towards the floor.

"What did I try to tell you, Mr. Nott, just a few minutes ago?" Severus asked, watching the boy close, willing him with his gaze to ask the question he wanted to ask instead of beating around the bush.

"Uhm … well … that everyone has to follow his own believes." Theodore murmured.

"Correct, Mr. Nott." Severus sighed. "And I would prefer it, if you looked at me during a conversation. I wish to see your face while talking with you, not the top of your head."

The boy looked up and Severus could see the unsureness, the hesitance and the fear lingering in Theodore's face, in his eyes. He sighed.

"Neither am I to let you down, never mind what kind of choice you make while being in my house, Mr. Nott, nor am I to harm you or to hurt you while you are in my house. Never mind what it is you believe in. Or do not believe in. And now, I am curious as to what that might be you do not believe in while others do, as it seems to give you a great deal of trouble."

Again silence, but then Severus could see the boy taking a deep breath. He straightened up suddenly, pressing his back against the backrest of the chair and his hands gripped the armrests. The boy was ready to get to the point of his troubles.

"Well … ok, I'll be dead anyway … I know, sir, you're a Death Eater and a loyal follower to the Dark Lord. And maybe to tell you that I don't want to follow this path is the same mistake as to tell my father. But, either way, whether I tell someone that I don't want to, or I will have to take the mark one day. And if I get it correct what you said during the meeting, then you said as the head of my house I would be under your protection. And thus, telling you, I guess, is much safer than telling this to my father."

Ok, now it was out and now the walk over the edge of the knife began. Would he show too much pleasure, then maybe he would give himself away, he couldn't be sure yet. Would he show too much anger, then maybe the boy would back away and avoid further help from him in this subject. But at least it was out and there was one future Death Eater less if he handled the situation carefully now.

Leaning back in his chair and taking a deep breath he folded his arms in front of his chest before he released his breath, his dark eyes fixed steadily on the boy in front of him.

The boy trembled in his chair, his muscles tense, his face pale and he clearly was ready to run for his life.

Severus watched him for a long time, not sure how to continue, his mind racing. This boy was not only the son of a simple Death Eater. This was Nott's son. And Nott had been one of the highest members in the Dark Lord's inner circle. He now was one of the leaders of the remaining Death Eaters. Not only had he to be very, very carefully if he himself wished to survive, but he had to ensure that the boy would survive as well.

"I take it, you never gave your father a hint of this?" Severus finally asked.

Theodore shook his head, gulping heavily, and he lowered his eyes back onto the ground.

"Eyes up, Mr. Nott, I do wish to have eye-contact during a conversation." Severus growled and the boy looked back at him.

"Well, Mr. Nott. Let me at first assure you – as I already told you – I will not harm you because you do not wish to follow the Dark Lord. I know your father would, but I am nor your father. And let me further assure you, as your head of house, your responsibility lays with me and thus I of course shall help you. However, I really would be interested in your reasons as to why you would not follow your father's footsteps, boy."

Feeling the anger Severus displayed Theodore Nott gulped heavily again. But then, taking another deep breath he answered.

"They hurt each other and they hurt other people as well. Even their children." He said. "They torture people, they rape them, and they kill them." Knowing what he had accused his head of house of, he cast his eyes away and this time Severus knew he really was up and about to flee the office if he would move just one single finger.

"Yes, Mr. Nott, I do know what you mean." He said, his voice as low and as gentle as possible, trying to ignore the boy's view of him. "And you do not wish to do the same." He simply stated, knowing that any discussion would be fruitless right now.

The boy nodded, still avoiding to look at him.

"Eye contact, Mr. Nott." Severus commanded and even if Theodore nearly left his chair, he looked up and the Potions Master nodded. "That's better." Severus said calmer.

"I … I didn't …" The boy began, but Severus slowly lifted his hand and stopped him, knowing what he wanted to say.

"I know you did not want to accuse me, Mr. Nott." He said, watching the boy relax slightly. "However, this is a discussion for a later point. Right now, I would be interested in what exactly you would desire for your own future."

The boy relaxed further while he watched his head of house. "I wanted to become a healer." He answered.

"A wise decision." Severus nodded. "You would need to do well in herbology, potions, astronomy, and care of magical creatures here at Hogwarts and later on you would have to take an apprenticeship in herbology, potions and the arts of healing."

"I know, sir." Theodore Nott answered.

"Do you already have someone in mind for your apprenticeships in those subjects?"

"No, sir." Was all the boy answered.

"Well, Mr. Nott." Severus said. "I expect you to do well in Potions and to give it an effort in herbology. I expect you in the potions classroom every first Tuesday in a month, at seven p.m. sharp to learn the finer art of potion making. I will have a word with Professor Sprout so she can set you a monthly date in remedial herbology as well and I expect you to give it your best effort. Further I will have a word with Madam Pomfrey. I am sure she will be relieved to have a student during the summer break to help her in the infirmary and during her work at St. Mungos. I expect you to work hard under her guidance and to not complain about missing holidays. Did I make myself clear, Mr. Nott?"

"Yes, sir." The boy said enthusiastically, his face lit up with the prospect of not having to go home during the summer break and Severus had to grit his teeth in order to not smile at him. It wouldn't do any good if Theodore knew that this had been his intention.

"Good, Mr. Nott." He said, fixing him with his most serious glare. "You better mind my words, I will not give you a second chance. You are dismissed."

Watching the boy leave his office, with something akin to a smile on his face, Severus shook his head. Of course he would give the boy a second chance, even a third and a forth if it was necessary, but he knew it wouldn't. It was not the first time he did this. And they all were glad that they would not have to go home. And he knew that Poppy wouldn't give the boy a hard time during work either. He would have to help her and mostly he would have to learn, nothing more. But the boy would be away from his father in a way that was not suspicious. He simply had assigned the boy a summer project.

He often was able to go against the abusive parents, to bring charges against them and to get the children out of their households. Sometimes they were placed in foster families, sometimes they got adopted. But sometimes, just as it was with Nott Senior as an abusive father, Severus knew he couldn't do anything openly and then he had to act in a more Slytherin way as to keep the children away from home with the excuse of summer projects.

He smirked while he left his office to go and have a look what Harry and Zilly might be doing.

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**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_It is time for Harry to go on in his education and to learn how to cast spells without using his voice._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you


	22. speechless magic and potions ingredients

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would very pleased if you would continue honouring my work with further reviews ... such indeed does encourage us authors ...

**Added Note:**

.oO( … yes … it still is there … )

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question and scrutinize every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_But sometimes, just as it was with Nott Senior as an abusive father, Severus knew he couldn't do anything openly and then he had to act in a more Slytherin way as to keep the children away from home with the excuse of summer projects._

_He smirked while he left his office to go and have a look what Harry and Zilly might be doing._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter twenty-two**

**Speechless magic and potions ingredients**

It was morning but not really time to get up yet, just shortly before dawn.

Severus was having the strangest dream he'd had since a long time. Minerva was there, telling him that she wanted him to marry Lily, while Albus at the same time wanted him to marry Petunia. But he didn't want to marry Petunia. He never had liked Lily's sister. He wanted to do as Minerva said, he wanted to marry Lily, he loved her, and he knew that she loved him back.

Lily at the same time just watched him, smiling encouragingly at him, daring him to go against the headmaster and she wasn't seeing Potter coming up from behind her. Severus saw Potter, but didn't think that it could be a dangerous situation. Potter was one of the order members after all. He was one of those who fought against the Dark Lord. Even if they didn't get along, they still were on the same side after all, they still fought for the same thing.

But then, just as he leaned forwards, placing his hand onto the surface of the wooden desk, and growled at Albus that he would not marry Petunia, that he would marry Lily, the woman he loved, just then Lily was gone, taken away from him by Potter. Taken out of Albus' office, under their very noses.

A moment later she was dead, laying on the floor beside the headmaster's desk and he hurried towards the only woman he ever had loved, towards Lily, towards the only reason of his worthless life.

He knelt beside her, taking her dead body into his arms, sobbing and with trembling hands he stroke her red hair out of her pale face, trying to memorize every line around her green eyes that would be closed forever, those eyes that never again would open, trying to memorize every line around her lips that used to smile at him, that used to laugh at his sarcastic comments, that never again would smile at him now.

She was gone, she was dead, and nothing could bring the dead back, nothing could change that. Not even a potion.

And Potter stood there, smirking at him, as if he wanted to say: "She might not have loved me, but you won't get her either."

He was trembling, unable to do anything besides of rocking the dead body of the only women he ever loved, he ever _would _love, in his arms, desperately murmuring the one word "no", and still Albus insisted he should marry Petunia. He didn't understand the headmaster, what would he want with Petunia?

But then Filius was there too and the small Charms Teacher just touched him and looked at him before he whispered into his ear: "Just take her son and care for him. Be the father for him he never will have."

With a startled gasp Severus woke and scrambled into an upright position in his bed, running his hand over his face and he noticed that his fingers trembled. A rare occasion and he cursed under his breath before he turned to his nightstand and took the glass of water, taking a sip, trying to focus onto the reality instead of the dream he'd had. It hadn't been the first dream in which Lily died after all. Even if it had been the first one that had been so confusing.

Placing the glass back onto his nightstand he took hold of the picture of Lily. It was different from the one he had on the sideboard in his living area. In this picture Lily was wrapping her arms around his neck and Severus knew that she stood on her tiptoes to reach him and to place the kiss onto his cheeks. He smiled. Yes, Lily had loved him back. And he should have acted sooner, earlier, quicker. He should have taken her after graduation. Before Potter had had a chance to do so. Or at least during that night when he had been visiting her for dinner, that dinner during which Harry had been sitting in his lap, smiling and leaning his small back against his chest. He should not have left without her to come back later.

"I am so sorry, Lily." He whispered to the picture. "I am sorry for all the mistakes I made. I am sorry that I did not take you earlier. I am sorry that I did not keep you safe. And I am sorry for all the evil things your son had to endure because of me, because I did not claim you sooner as my family."

He sighed, running his fingers over the laughing face in the picture.

"But this last outcome of my mistakes at least, I might be able to make up to it. Harry is mine. I will take him in as my son, not only as my ward. I have already visited Albus and I already have contacted child service. I will adopt your son. He will have a father, he will have that what I should have given him years ago."

A soft sobbing noise startled him out of his – 'conversation' – with the picture and he placed the wooden frame back onto the nightstand and got up. Harry, as it seemed, had a nightmare too. Well, the boy had them quite often, so it was no wonder.

After taking hold of the candle he had on his nightstand – yes, he had to admit to himself, he still slept with a burning candle beside his bed – he left his chamber and went towards Harry's room. The boy was upright in his bed, his knees drawn to his chest and his back on the wall, trying to suppress his sobs. When he got closer to the bed he immediately noticed the boy who looked at him with large fearful eyes began to tremble and the smell immediately told him that the child had wet his bed.

Well, that had to be expected at one point and if he was honest with himself, then he wondered that it hadn't happened earlier.

"Hush, child." He tried to comfort the boy but Harry just tried to press himself further into the corner, his trembling increasing and he shook his head in his terror.

Placing the candle on the nightstand he sat onto the edge of the bed and reached towards the boy who at once tensed up when he touched his upper arms.

"Hush child." Severus repeated in a low and gentle voice. "You are not in trouble, Harry. You had a nightmare and that is all. You are safe, no harm is done and you are not in trouble." He pulled the boy who tried to struggle against him without any efforts towards him and held him in his arms, rocking him slightly until at least the violent trembling eased a little, all the while whispering to him that it was ok, that he was not in trouble for something like this and that he wasn't angry at him.

"I'm sorry." Came the well known sign after long minutes of reassurances and Severus sighed.

"There is no need to be sorry, Harry." He whispered. "Neither for having a nightmare, nor for an accident. And not for crying either. You are not in trouble. It was just a nightmare and you are awake now. It is nothing more than a wet bed and we can fix this. No harm is done, Harry."

Again a few minutes passed until the boy was calm enough so that his sobs lessened as well and Severus placed his fingertips under Harry's chin and lifted his head. Nevertheless the boy didn't look at him, he cast his eyes aside and the Potions Master guessed that the red spots on his cheeks did not just come from crying but that the boy was ashamed as well and he sighed again.

"Look at me, Harry." He said but Harry just shook his head, refusing to obey and his trembling increased again.

"Look at me, Harry! Now!" Severus commanded and this time his voice made clear that there was no room left for disobedience. Reluctantly Harry did as he was told and looked at him, fear, shame and embarrassment clearly written on his face.

"That's better, child." Severus said, his voice back to a gentle tone. "There is no need to be ashamed about this, child." He said, not allowing Harry to take this path of thinking. "Other children, even older children as you, have wet their bed during a nightmare. You are not the first one, and surely you will not be the last one either. It was an accident and accidents happen. Do you understand?"

Well, the boy he held in his arms nodded, reluctantly, but he knew that he had not understood. Or at least that he did not _want_ to understand.

"Let's get you into a warm bath, child." He said. "It will help you to feel comfortable and to relax."

For a moment he had been about to say 'it will get you clean' but luckily he had thought better of it just in time to change the words on his mind. He didn't want the boy to think he was dirty or not clean. This boy had been raped, for Merlin's sake, and he knew that he had thoughts close enough to this line by himself. He did not need added confirmations. And those words would have been nothing else than that.

He scooped the boy up into his arms and easily got to his feet. The boy still was much too light. Not as light as he had been nearly four weeks ago, but still too light. They still had a far road ahead of them and he pressed the small body against his chest. He didn't even bother to release the boy to open the bathroom door but just kicked it open with his foot.

Harry felt strangely safe while the Professor held him and carried him across his room. Never before had anyone carried him and never before had he heard of a teacher carrying a student. Dudley surely would have had a fit about it. He always said that the teachers in his school were so reserved. They weren't even allowed to touch the students and Dudley always complained about it. He wanted their attention, wanted them to cradle him as his parents did or as aunt Marge did. And aunt Petunia always cradled him just the more then.

The embrace around him tightened and Harry felt as Professor Snape pushed the bathroom door open with a kick of his foot.

When Severus entered the bathroom he sat on the edge of the tub and while the water was running into the bath he stood the boy in front of him, and opened the buttons of his pyjama top, his movements slow so he wouldn't startle the boy. When he removed the piece of clothing his eyes were drawn to a dark red spot on the fabric he held in his hand and pressing his eyes shut for a moment he recognized that the boy had scratched the scars open in his sleep, during his dream.

"Turn, child." He said, placing his hands on Harry's shoulders to turn him around at the same time and he sighed when he saw some of the scars on his shoulders partly reopened, bleeding and surrounded by scratch marks. Not what he'd had in mind.

He added a vial of the healing oil to the water in the tub and then undressed the boy completely, ignoring the flush that spread over Harry's cheeks.

"Climb in the tub, child." He said, keeping hold of Harry's left upper arm so he wouldn't slip and fall. The boy might be fully awake, but he didn't know if he had all his senses awake as well. Taking a wash cloth he began to wash Harry's back at first, carefully dipping it over the wounds.

"You have managed to scratch your scars open, child." He said, trying to catch the boy's eyes, without success. Harry kept his eyes onto the surface of the water, his cheeks still blushed and the only movement he made was –

Severus sighed. Of course. And he knew there was no way to get this special sign out of the boy's head.

"Do not apologize for things that are out of your control, child." He said. "It is not your fault nor did you do anything wrong. There is nothing to be ashamed for. Neither for losing control over your bladder during a nightmare, nor for scratching at your scars during a dream either. I guess that both incidents are linked together and thus I guess that it had been a rather very distressing nightmare. You are not to blame for a normal reaction."

The sobs immediately started anew and Harry shook his head.

Severus moved beside the tub so he was facing Harry now and he ran the wash cloth over the boy's chest, lifting his head with his free hand so he was able to look into his eyes.

"Listen to me, you stubborn child." He said lightly. "I have had a lot of children under my care since I am a teacher. And I am a teacher since more than ten years now. Do you really think that you are the first one who wet his bed during a nightmare? Honestly, Mr. Potter. You are not. Neither will you be the last one. Such accidents happen. And not only to a first year like you. I have had second years here that wet the bed, even a third year once. And sometimes it even happens to an adult." He added at an afterthought. Of course he didn't say under what kind of circumstances exactly he had witnessed such. That was nothing the boy should know about. He sighed.

Unsure green eyes met his dark ones and he lifted his eyebrow. He would have displayed amusement if he hadn't known that it would upset Harry just the more. So he just got to his feet and took a large towel from the shelf beside the tub and then helped the boy out of the water, wrapped the towel around the slim shoulders and rubbed the boy dry.

"Sit here." He said, opening the bathroom cabinet and took the healing oil out of it. "I have poured the potion into the water." He explained. "Nevertheless I wish to cover the open cuts with it. I do not wish them to become infected again."

"I'm sorry." Came the most used sign from the boy.

"Don't." Severus sighed. "There is no need to and I will repeat it a thousand times more if I have to. You have done nothing wrong."

He massaged the potion into the skin on Harry's shoulders and he was quite glad that the boy hadn't reached every part of his back. After summoning a pair of new pyjamas and dressing Harry he took the boy's hands into his and studied the fingernails. They were not too long but long enough to scratch and taking his wand and pointing it onto the boy's fingers he murmured a soft "seco digiti clavus". A moment later the nails were cut short enough so he wouldn't be able to scratch his scars open again.

"Now, let's get you back into bed, child." He said.

The boy had relaxed in the warmth of the bath and under his touch when he had massaged the healing oil into the small shoulders, and now he was almost asleep when he returned him to his bed. Zilly had gotten the bed dry and had covered the comforter with new sheets and a new blanket. The wet ones had disappeared as had the wet pyjama and Severus sat Harry onto the now dry mattress beside him, leaning against the headboard and allowing both of them a moment before going back to sleep.

He had taken the boy into his arms a few times during the past three weeks, for a short embrace to calm him, but the day before, out in the back yard, had been the first time that Harry actually had remained in his arms, had leaned his head against his shoulder by his own free will, the first time he had even slept in his arms knowingly and – not for the first time – he felt as if he had to struggle to get some air into his lungs as he held the child now.

Lowering his gaze onto the small face the Potions Master noticed that the boy listened closely to his heartbeat, his face nearly a mask of concentration.

"Is my heartbeat that interesting?" He asked, nearly chuckling.

"I don't want to sleep." The boy signed, his hands shaking.

"Because of the nightmares?" Severus asked and Harry just nodded.

"Nightmares are very helpful sometimes, child. They show you all your fears and they leave you without any way out to hide from them. They show you what you really fear. What was is about?"

Harry shook his head, clinging even tighter to him and Severus ran is hand over the boy's back, avoiding the shoulders. It wouldn't do any good to add more pain to the boy.

"It might help if you tell me." He whispered. "Sometimes the nightmares are less frightening if you know what they mean. What was it about, child?"

"The cupboard." Harry finally answered after a few more moments of hesitation. "And then … my uncle took it away … he made me sleep in the cellar … and it was so large down there … and then I got lost and couldn't do my chores … and my uncle …" He stopped and buried his face in the Potions Master's night-robe, noticing that even those smelled like the herbs he used in his potions.

"You do know that it is wrong to lock a child away into a cupboard, Harry." Severus said. "But I also can understand that it would be a relief to have a place where you could feel safe, where you would be left alone – even if it is just inside a cupboard. What is the exact reason why I never would forbid you to hide under your bed as you so often do. That is the reason why I did not enlarge this small space, but only placed the comforter, the pillow and the blanket down there. If you ever feel the need for such a small place, then I wish you to be comfortable there. But I want you to know that in this room, you never have to feel frightened, that in this room you can feel safe, that there is no need to hide under your bed. And I want you to know that this room is yours. Just yours. It was my guest chamber up to now, but from now on this room will be yours alone and you can come whenever you feel the need to be here. Even when you are back in your dormitory this room will remain your room and yours alone."

Harry laid his head back against his shoulder and closed his tired eyes, sobbing into his chest, his shoulders shaking until he finally fell asleep, again in the Potions Masters arms and Severus could not bring himself to move the boy. So he simply pulled the blanket over both of them, keeping one arm around Harry while the boy slept and he turned off the light, only leaving the candle on the nightstand burning, trying to get at least one or two more hours of sleep for himself.

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"It is a matter of your will, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall had told him. "Transfiguration will be easy as soon as you have found your own way. There is no trick about it and there are no other spells than those you need to define _what_ exactly you want to transform. The only real challenge there is, is that you have to _will_ the objects to transform. It is all a matter of your will."

Well, yes. And apparently his will was not really strong. Because nothing happened. Absolutely nothing.

"Of course it is much more difficult to do so while you have to concentrate on a silent spell at the same time, but it is possible, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall had said.

Harry glared at the pine needle that lay in front of him, frustrated over the fact that it still was a pine needle and not the sewing needle it was supposed to transform into.

"You do remember what Minerva told you, Harry?" Severus asked when he entered the living area and noticed the frustrated look on the boy's face. "It will take time. You won't learn it in one day. You only have begun learning speechless magic this morning and just the basics of it."

The boy nodded but he didn't look away from the needle that was laying in front of him at the table and Severus shook his head when he noticed the tired face.

"How long have you been practicing, Harry?" He asked.

"I don't know." Harry signed back, not wanting to admit that he had been practicing longer than the hour Professor McGonagall had told him to. "It just doesn't work!"

"Of course not, if you are exhausted." Severus sighed, shaking his head at the stubbornness of the boy. "You do remember Professor McGonagall mentioning something about it being exhausting when you are beginning to learn any kind of mind magic?" He drawled, back to his usual snarky self and he lifted his eyebrow at the boy that finally turned to him, a nearly startled expression on his face when he noticed that the Potions Master seemed to be angry.

"I'm sorry." Came the usual reply and he took a step backwards.

"Don't be." Severus answered. "Just take a rest as you are tired. I can see it from outside of this room and even through the closed door that you are tired. You might try it again later, but not now."

Gritting his teeth in frustration he gave the pine needle a last discouraged glance and then turned, entering his room with bent shoulders. He was just too stupid to do speechless magic. But without speechless magic he wouldn't be able to do magic at all. And without being able to do magic, he couldn't stay at Hogwarts. And if he wasn't able to stay at Hogwarts, then he would have to go back to the Dursleys. It was a line of thought that left no room for objections. It just was that way.

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Severus left the small kitchen where he had prepared tea and he lifted his eyebrow when he noticed Harry sitting on the sofa, his wand in his hand, pointed at the damn fir needle.

The boy had been practicing speechless magic, to transfigure this damn fir needle into a sewing needle to be precise, for over an hour yesterday morning with Minerva. And he had continued for over an hour after Minerva had left, until he had been tired and exhausted and he – Severus – had sent him to bed for a nap.

In the afternoon the boy had continued practicing the same spell, but an hour later the fir needle still lay there without being transfigured and the only thing Harry had accomplished had been to give himself a headache.

Again Severus had sent him to bed for a nap but – as soon as the boy had exited his room for dinner, he had laid the fir needle onto the kitchen table and it had taken Severus to ban practicing or studying during meals to get the boy to eat something instead of – trying to transfigure this damn needle.

Well, Harry had practiced after dinner, again for an hour, until he had – again – had a headache. Severus had given him a potion and then sent him to bed.

And now – it was just six o'clock in the morning – the boy again sat here, his wand in his hand, pointed at the fir needle and his face was a pale mask of concentration. He would confiscate this damn needle if Harry continued like this. He wasn't supposed to practice this kind of magic for longer than an hour each day.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter." He drawled, his eyebrow raised, leaning against the doorframe and watching the boy. He ignored the flinch Harry gave away as he called him by his sure name. "As you are eager to get out of bed at such an early time, I am sure we can find something else to amuse you with before breakfast. Maybe you would like to go into the forbidden forest to get all the fir needles you can find there? Just so you have more objects to practice with?"

"I'm sorry." Came the immediate reply and Severus sighed, shaking his head while he pushed himself off the doorframe. He summoned the teapot and another cup and went towards Harry and the coffee table.

"As much as I prefer students who actually are willing to learn, Harry, I will not allow you to overdo it with this kind of magic." He said, placing the second cup in front of the boy and pouring tea into it, adding the honey as always. "An hour a day. And yesterday you have been at it for three hours."

"I slept between them." Harry tried to argue, his eyes unsure at him, not sure how far he could go and again Severus shook his head.

"Yes, you did." He said. "But nevertheless you are not supposed to practice more than one hour each day and you will keep this in mind. You may practice this morning, but not before you had breakfast and then that will do for the rest of today. And there is a new potion I want you to brew anyway. I guess you have read the third chapter in your potions book?"

"Yes, sir." Harry nodded and Severus leaned back in his armchair.

"And then I wanted to start with an explanation about defence against the Dark Arts. Another subject you would have to take here at Hogwarts. There is more to your education than just potions, transfiguration or speechless magic."

"Yes, sir." Harry signed, his eyes cast down towards the floor. "I'm sorry sir."

"There is no need to be, Mr. Potter." Severus sighed. "As I said, I do prefer students that are willing to learn and I am glad that you are one of those. But you are still a first year student, and you are still not entirely well. Thus I do not wish you to practice speechless spells for more than the assigned hour each day. I do hope I made myself clear."

"Yes sir." Came the answer, followed by an "I'm …" and Severus actually had to suppress a smile as the boy stopped himself from apologizing yet again.

"Good." He said. "See that you remember it. What do you plan for the rest of the day? Professor McGonagall will not visit today."

"I don't know, sir." Came the unsure reply and Severus watched the boy close.

"Maybe you want to visit the back yard later in the afternoon?" He asked and the boy actually smiled at him. At him! No one smiled at him! Well, ok, besides of Albus and Minerva. But that was different.

"Then we shall do so." He said. "And as you are awake yet, I suggest you take a shower and get ready for the day. I do not want you to practice before breakfast."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

While Harry cut the viper roots Severus watched him close. Not that he normally had to do so. The boy was able to handle a knife pretty well, in fact he was able to handle a knife better than some of the sixth year students he had in his NEWT class. But Harry had practiced the speechless spell this morning after breakfast yet again and the Potions Master noticed his fingers trembling worse since then.

The boy's fingers were already covered in enough tiny scars caused by cutting his fingers while cooking for his relatives. The small scars were similar to his own he had gathered throughout the years as a Potions Master. But seeing such on the fingers of such a young child, it was quite disturbing.

"How are you, Harry?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at the boy.

"I'm fine." Came the answer and Severus huffed, not believing him.

"See that you drink enough while you work." He suggested. "It will help if you happen to have a headache. Not to mention that your body needs the fluids."

Harry nodded at him and the guilty look on the boy's still pale face told him that he was right. Maybe he should forget about defence today and walk Harry into the back yard early instead. The fresh air would do him good. They could talk about defence after dinner, if he wouldn't sent the boy to bed early, that was.

Harry might be able to take private lessons meanwhile, and he might have gathered some strength meanwhile. He even might be able to eat and sleep as a normal child. Well, mostly at least. But he still was not healed completely yet and anything that drew the little strength the child had managed to gain during the past weeks away, he just wanted to avoid. Or at least try to minimize.

"The viper roots are from a tree called black birch. It is the counterpart to the ordinary birch tree that actually has healing abilities as well but is not quite as strong as the black birch." Severus explained, trying to get Harry distracted from the headache and his trembling fingers. He knew that the boy noticed and that he was worried by it himself, though he would never admit it. Neither his worries, nor his headache. He would give him a potion later when they had lunch. The boy was far from reacting well to too much potions without proper food in his system. "We will use it together with the bark of the ordinary willow as the bark of the black willow is much too strong for this special potion as it is brewed for the school infirmary and thus for children. Would it be brewed for St. Mungos we would use the bark of the black birch."

"Why is the … why is the black one stronger than the other?" The boy asked curiously.

"It is the sun that actually makes the bark of the black willow so much stronger than its roots. The white one does not react to the sun as much as the black one."

"What does it do?" Harry asked.

"Firstly and most importantly, it helps with nephritis, infected kidneys." He explained at the lost look Harry gave him. "The girls actually do need it every year because they do not dress properly but decide on dressing what is fashioned. They often run along without covering their kidneys and thus they get a cold. It as well helps with allergies and skin diseases. Even with such small things as acne and pimples. Madam Pomfrey surely will be glad that she can get rid of the amount of girls that run down her door each year with those – trivial – diseases."

The boy was listening closely, as always when he explained something to him, but he was moving slower today and every now and then he shifted uneasily, rubbed his fingertips over his forehead and after half an hour later Severus had enough.

He moved next to Harry, watching him with his eyes narrowed slightly.

"May I?" He asked. "Would you allow me in?"

Harry instantly knew what the Professor meant and for a moment he hesitated. It was quite annoying to have a guardian who was able to get into your mind. But then, he knew by now that Professor Snape wouldn't harm him and so he nodded after a few seconds of hesitation. Severus slowly extended his hand towards Harry's face, knowing that the boy would flinch if he moved too fast and he brushed his fingers lightly against the forehead before he placed his palm firmly over the pale skin, the other hand covering the back of the boy's neck, keeping him from backing away.

He didn't search for memories this time and he didn't sent a memory this time either, he just wanted to discover Harry's feelings, nevertheless it wouldn't do any good if the boy would break away while their minds were connected. Gently he probed against Harry's mind and easily he could enter, Harry allowing him in.

Instantly he felt a headache as if it were his own and it was not just a slight headache but a rather strong one that caused a gasp from the Potions Master and startled Harry flinched under his touch as he tried to look up at the older wizard in alarm.

"Hush, child." Severus whispered, feeling the fear and terror creeping up in the boy. "I did not mean to startle you, I just was shocked at the headache you are trying to hide. That is not just a slight one." Gently he reached out further and sent out a few calming waves, trying to dissipate the pain at least a bit before he retreated from the boy's mind, not releasing him completely and he summoned a wet cloth that he pressed onto Harry's forehead. "Even if I might startle you, I would never hurt you, child." He added in a whisper.

"How are you doing this?" Harry asked, his fingers still trembling.

"Perhaps I will tell you some other time, Harry." Severus answered softly while he held the boy gently. "But not now. Right now, I wish you to rest."

"I did after the lesson …"

"You did, but as it seems it was not enough." Severus interrupted, his voice not quite angry but with a hint of displeasure in it and Harry immediately recognized it as what it was and grew silent.

"Do not worry, child." Severus reassured, feeling Harry tensing under his touch. "I am not angry at you. I rather am displeased with the situation itself. I wish you to go to bed and rest."

"But the potion …"

"The potion can wait, Mr. Potter." Severus had to fight back a growl. "I do not care about the potion right now but for your health." Feeling the boy's tension increase he berated himself silently while he pulled Harry from the bench. "Come on, Harry. Up you go. I will bring you to bed." He said as softly as he could muster.

Harry didn't give contradiction this time and he allowed Severus to lead him upstairs, into his room and towards his bed. "When you are better in the later afternoon, then we may go outside for some fresh air and we can talk about whatever you like. But right now I wish you to lay down and rest. Sleep if you can. Otherwise just close your eyes and dream, imagine a situation you feel safe and well."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

When Severus entered the boy's chamber later to look after his charge, he pressed his teeth together and his hands into fists at the sight that greeted him. The boy was in his bed, just as he had ordered him to. But he wasn't sleeping. Nor was he resting in any kind either. He was practicing, the fir needle laying in front of him on the mattress and the wand held in his hand, his face a mask of pain and concentration.

The boy didn't even notice him entering the room and he summoned the fir needle that was laying in front of the boy, causing Harry to flinch startled and to look up at him, his eyes wide with fear.

"I see you are quite resting, Mr. Potter." Severus drawled, his eyebrow lifted and his arms folded in front of him. "Even if you seem to have a strange way of resting – and obeying – if I might add."

The boy sitting on the bed gulped nervously and his face lost every colour. That little colour that was there anyway and he dropped his hands – after an apology – and his face.

The Potions Master was angry. What was it with that boy? Since he had started on speechless magic it was as if he was obsessed with it and he disregarded everything Minerva and he had told him. He overran the time he was ordered to practise, he didn't rest when he was supposed to, not even when he got a severe headache and he practised more often than he was allowed to.

He sighed heavily, knowing that the boy only wanted to learn, that the boy wanted to please his teachers. But on the other hand, that did not cover the fact that he clearly had disobeyed his orders – namely to rest.

"As you are not able to obey simple orders, Mr. Potter," he continued, trying to keep his anger under control, "I will confiscate the fir needle. You will get it back for practice the moment when I deem it safe for you to do so. You are not in trouble now and no punishment will take place, but now, I want you to finally rest, at least until dinnertime. Good night, Mr. Potter."

With that he turned and left the room, leaving the door ajar and pacing his living area, growling silently and shaking his head every now and then.

What an enigma this boy was, he thought.

Harry never had been in school because his relatives had abused him in a most cruel way and had feared discovery. Yet – here he was and he was intelligent, able to use his brain and to learn, because he had to do so in the past in order to survive in the Dursleys' household. He never had been praised by his relatives, during all his life, and he had feared his – Severus' – praise in the beginning as well. Yet – here he was and he now was ready to do every thing to gain a praise. Even if this meant to disobey his orders and to fear a punishment. Even if it meant to cause exhaustion and headaches while doing so.

The boy was not ready yet to attend his classes together with the other students, to roam the castle or to have his meals in the great hall with his classmates without supervision, yet he was able to learn on his own, to do as he was told during lessons, and to display talent and intelligence. He was able to show manners and respect.

Well, rather fear than actually respect, Severus thought with another headshake and he sighed heavily.

At first he had thought the boy looked so much like his father. The unruly black hair, the stupid glasses, the high cheekbones …

Later he had discovered that the boy had a lot from his mother either. Lily's green eyes for example, her fine lips and her small nose. But there were things like the high cheekbones that Harry had not only inherited from James. Lily had had those high cheekbones as well.

And then – later – Severus had nearly gasped in shock. When the boy had removed his glasses once, he had noticed that he looked less like his father than he had originally thought. Harry's entire face had lacked any resemblances without those glasses. Even the unruly black hair wasn't quite right. And in potions, Severus had noticed that Harry had neither James's hands nor Lily's.

They were as fine as Lily's hands had been, but they were not the same nevertheless. Maybe just because he had seen all those small cuts that stained the boy's fingers, all those cuts from yearlong use of a sharp knife.

And surely – James never had shown such a desperate struggle when it came to learning. Even there Harry resembled more his mother than his father. Even if Lily never really _had _to struggle, but then – well, she hadn't had the boy's background. But James never had made an effort of learning, he had been lazy and he had been cheating in his studies.

He would never admit it aloud, but he wished that Lily's son were not James' son as well but his, Severus'. He wished with all his heart that he had made other choices in his life, that _he _had married Lily, instead of James, or that he had taken them out of James' hands when he'd had the chance to do so, in this damnable evening those many years ago. That Harry was his child, his and Lily's.

Maybe he would have been able to protect them better. Maybe Lily would be still alive.

Yes. He still loved Lily. He loved her in everything he did. He loved her in every thought he thought. And he loved her – yes, he loved her even in that boy.

How could he get the boy to get better, if he refused to do as he was told? If he didn't rest properly? And if he still didn't eat as much as he should?

With a sigh he decided that he would think about it later, or the next day. Right now it was dinnertime and he would have to wake Harry. And after that he would go to bed early. He was tired.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The next morning came and as soon as Harry left his room and Severus had a look at the boy he knew that he should have thought about it yesterday. Harry's trembling had turned into full blown tremors through his upper body, his hands were back to jerking every few seconds and his face was as pale as a ghost. He could see that the boy tried to hide it somehow, but he wasn't able to. It was as if he were under the after effects from the cruciatus.

"Sit." He ordered, having trouble to keep his worry under control. The boy had rested during the entire afternoon, and during the entire night. And he had eaten too. What was the matter? Why was he worse today? Why was the trembling _that_ bad today?

"Did you sleep well last night?" Severus asked when they both were sitting at the kitchen table and the boy had toast, bakon and crumbled eggs on his plate and a glass of milk in front of him.

Harry shook his head, his eyes never leaving the plate in front of him and Severus sighed.

"I can see as much." He drawled, ignoring the boy's flinch. From the guilty look on Harry's face he knew that it was not due to a nightmare.

"Why is it, that you didn't sleep well?" He asked.

"I …" Harry began and then stopped, averting his eyes.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked, his eyebrow lifted and his head lowered to one side.

"I … thought … about something." Harry signed, still his eyes on the table beside his plate.

"About what, if I might ask?" Severus wanted to know.

"About …" Harry again began – and then stopped.

"You do know, Mr. Potter, that I do not wish to be lied to?" Severus asked, annoyance clearly audible in his voice and the boy flinched again, his nervousness and his anxiety rising into the well known signs of fear.

There wasn't an answer for a while and Severus thought no one would come when Harry gave him his most used sign. "I'm sorry."

"I can see you are." Severus sighed. "So, care to tell me what you really did last night besides of sleeping?"

"I was practicing." Came the small answer with trembling fingers and still averted eyes.

"How in Merlin's name have you been able to practice if I confiscated your fir needle?" Severus growled darkly and again Harry flinched, squirming under the intense stare of the Potions Master.

"But there … there was one … left … I guess." Harry signed and Severus narrowed his eyes. There hadn't one been left. Minerva had left just one fir needle, he knew it. He had been present. And he had not seen another one when he had summoned the one Harry had been practicing with either. He knew there had been just one. So, where did the second come from?

Well, that wasn't important at the moment. Important right now were the boy's exhaustion and his tremors.

After running a short diagnostic spell he furrowed his brow and sat beside Harry, taking the boy's left hand in his own.

"Squeeze." He commanded sternly, ignoring the boy's flinch, and Harry obeyed.

The pressure was weak, much too weak for Severus' liking, much weaker than what the boy had given away during the physical exercises for the past few days and the Potions Master was more concerned than he was ready to admit.

"The other one." Severus said, taking Harry's other hand. Yet – it was the same week squeeze and he sighed heavily while getting to his feet and leaving the room with a stern "wait here".

Harry felt uneasy. He not only had disobeyed the Professor's command but he had lied to him as well. He surely was in trouble now. In a lot of trouble, he was sure of it. What was Professor Snape doing? Would he come back with something to punish him? With a cane? Or with a belt?

No, he surely would not come back with a belt, he thought, remembering the incident a few days earlier. The Professor had refused to beat him with the belt he had worn. He had thrown it into the fire. But he remembered the fear he had felt at this moment, and it had been a fear similar to what he felt now.

Uncle Vernon would beat him like mad, he would beat him until he wasn't able to move anymore. But the Professor was not uncle Vernon. He never had beaten him up to now. And he had said that he would not beat him, never. But …

"Why did you practice last night?" Professor Snape's dark and stern voice interrupted his thoughts and he couldn't help but jump rather violently. "Against my explicit orders?"

Averting his eyes again Harry shook his head.

"I wish an answer, Mr. Potter." Severus said and Harry knew that he had no choice than to do as he was told, than to give an answer.

"Because … because I have to learn this." He signed.

"I know that you do, Mr. Potter, but that is no reason to go against my orders." Severus said, piercing the boy in front of him with a stern gaze and Harry squirmed under his stare.

"But … but I have to learn it soon." He signed, his hands shaking and Severus had to concentrate to read the signs correctly. "It is important."

"It might be important, but surely no one will mark you down simply because you cannot do nonverbal magic." Severus told him. "Not all wizards are able to. It is taught because it can be an advantage, but honestly, in everyday life, nonverbal magic is not a vital ability."

"But it is for me." Harry shook his head. "Because if I don't learn it, then I can't do magic. And if I can't do magic, then I can't stay here. And if I can't stay here, then I have to go back to the … to my relatives."

Severus sighed, closing his eyes in pure frustration before he knelt beside the chair Harry sat in.

"You really do not have any idea how important you have become to me, do you?" Severus said in a voice that clearly held pain and sadness and for a moment he placed his hands in a tight grip onto the small and shaking shoulders of the boy in front of him. "I do not mind if you are able to learn speechless magic. Few are able to. I do not mind if you will be able to regain speech one day. I already told you so. And I do not mind if you are able to do magic in general. It is you, and you alone I care about, child. I will not send you back to those monsters, never mind what, never mind if you can do magic or not. And before you exhaust yourself again with overdoing your exercises, come to me and explain what is going through this stubborn mind of yours. Come to me and tell me of your fears. It is a mute point now, but please, Harry, tell me what is bothering you. I might be alert to many things, but I cannot know everything that is on your mind. Sometimes I might need your help to understand you as much as you do need my help. Do you understand?"

The boy nodded and again Severus sighed.

So many fears and the boy was just too small to understand them. So many fears and the boy had had just too many bad experiences to trust an adult. And so many fears and the boy was just to unsure to mention them or to even acknowledge them.

And even now he could sense the one fear that was in the forefront of Harry's awareness. The fear of being punished.

"Hush, child." Severus whispered. "You might have disobeyed me, and you might have done harm to yourself. But you are not in trouble. There will be no punishment. Drink this potion."

Harry extended his hand slowly to take the potion but his hands shook too badly, he just couldn't stop shaking and so Severus shook his head again and pressed the vial to the boy's lips.

"Let me help you." He whispered. "Drink it, it will ease the tremors."

Harry did as he was told and downed the content of the small bottle. A moment later he pressed his fingers into a fist when he felt his insides burning where the potion had run down his gullet and his stomach felt like being on fire. It was not really painful, but it was uncomfortable. For a moment memories came back, memories of aunt Petunia forcing him to drink a liquid when he had been ill, a liquid that burned in his insides and made him throwing up the entire day and he felt waves of panic creeping up in him.

"It will be over in a few moments and only warmth will be left." Severus reassured, knowing about the burning sensation. "The remaining warmth will spread through your arms and legs and warm your nerves and your muscles, relax them and thus ease the trembling. And now finish your breakfast." He ordered.

He looked at Harry with a stern expression on his face, one that made him nearly harsh looking and again the boy flinched. "You are not to do more than reading the chapters in your textbooks which I will assign you during the next several days." He said. "And if I find that you have disobeyed me again, I can promise you, you won't like the consequences, Mr. Potter. Is that clear?" He raised his voice slightly. Not enough so the boy would get into a panic attack, but enough that Harry would know he was serious and he better did as he was told.

Harry swallowed dryly, clearly feeling uncomfortable under the Potions Master's harsh glare, and he quickly nodded his head.

"Good." Severus growled, still fixing the boy with his dark eyes. "Because you will not move one single toe out of bed for the next two days without my explicit permission, do you understand me?"

Again Harry nodded.

After the boy had finished his breakfast – even if he had not emptied his plate, as always – he had sent him into his room and into bed, had told him he would be present soon. But even with the potion he had given the boy - when he had made his way to his room his body had been shaking so badly, Severus didn't know how he was still on his feet and he sighed. The boy needed to rest. He needed to sleep.

"Drink this, Harry." He said when he entered the boy's room and sat beside him onto the mattress.

But the boy only shook his head, his face hiding in his hands, and from the tension of his shoulders Severus knew that he still awaited some kind of punishment.

"You are not in trouble, child." He tried to reassure the boy again. "You have made a mistake, but you are punished enough with the after effects of it. There is no need for me to add any more to this. So drink this, it is a sleeping potion. You need to sleep."

But again the boy shook his head and Severus began to see his mistake. The boy had seen his tremors as some kind of punishment for his disobedience himself and he – Severus – had confirmed him in his thoughts.

"Those tremors are not a punishment for your disobedience, Harry." He tried again. "They are just the after effects from exercising too long in a branch of magic that is very difficult and exhausting. You have not only exhausted your mind, but your body as well, the nerves especially. You just need to sleep. So, please, Harry. Drink this. It will make you sleep." He begged the boy. He just could not stand to see the child like this. He really was about to go soft.

Well, he was glad when Harry finally accepted the vial and Severus studied him intently for a few moments. He was relieved when he saw that the potion took hold and the boy's eyelids grew heavy. And right now he didn't care if he was about to go soft.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Harry gives Severus a few near-heart-attacks when the Potions Master finds him on a broom in the air ..._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter as well ... thank you


	23. brooms and flying

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would very pleased if you would continue honouring my work with further reviews ... such indeed does encourage us authors ...

**Added Note:**

.oO( … yes … it still is there … )

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question and scrutinize every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_He just could not stand to see the child like this. He really was about to go soft. _

_Well, he was glad when Harry finally accepted the vial and Severus studied him intently for a few moments. He was relieved when he saw that the potion took hold and the boy's eyelids grew heavy._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter twenty-three**

**Brooms and flying**

Severus went back to the weeping willow to pick Harry up so they could go back into the castle to have their afternoon tea, but the boy was not there. He rounded the weeping willow and now he furrowed his brows in concern.

The boy _really _was not there.

He had left him sitting in the warm afternoon sun in the grass beside the tree, but now the boy was gone. And the back yard really was not as large enough as that a small boy could get lost. It was surrounded on two sides by the masonry of the old castle and on a third side by a large hedge. The forth side was partly open, only sheltered with a line of large trees through which the small path was leading into the main yard of the castle and from there towards the lake and towards Hagrid's hut and then further towards the forbidden forest.

Severus groaned.

The lake – and he was sure the boy couldn't swim!

Hagrid's hut – the boy would get into a panic attack when meeting the half-giant for the first time and alone not to mention.

The forbidden forest – only Merlin knew what could befall the boy in there!

And cursing under his breath he hurried along the path.

He just left the back yard through the trees when he heard a faint scream of fear and looking into the direction the scream came from – above! – he recognized a child on a broom high up in the air.

His heart stopped for a moment and his insides seemed to squirm on their own accord.

He recognized this feeling instantly. It was the same feeling he'd felt, the same pain he'd felt when he had seen Lily's dead body in the ruins of Godoric Hollow. The same panic.

But as the broom came closer he recognized that the boy was not Harry. It was Longbottom and he nearly sighed with relieve.

So the first years had their first flying lesson and as it seemed Longbottom was as helpless on a broom as he was with potions. He drew his wand to cast an 'aresto momentum', just in case the boy would fall – only to have the next near-heart-attack when another broom came into his line of view and this time he clearly recognized Harry on this broom, following the Longbottom boy the moment he actually fell from the broom and got caught by one of the statues atop the roof of the old castle on the hem of his robes, dangling midair and slowly sliding out of his robes.

Severus was so shocked that he wasn't able to do anything, he wasn't able to move just one single muscle, nor was he able to use his wand. He only saw Harry on this damn broom, the boy soaring the sky, approaching Longbottom and he blinked, trying to get back control over himself.

This damn broom was too big and too fast for that thin child!

One slight gust of wind and the boy would fall off the broom and he still was too high above in the air.

He would break his neck even if he wouldn't be as fragile as he actually was. He would break every single bone in his small body! He would …

Harry was close to Longbottom now who just in this moment slipped out of his robes completely and fell further and Severus finally came back to life. But before he could react Harry sent him into the next near-heart-attack by diving, forcing the broom downwards.

This stupid child tried to get under the falling Longbottom boy. He wouldn't be able to catch him! He would lose control as soon as the other boy would hit the broom!

Raising his wand Severus cast the first spell onto Longbottom that came to his mind – a levitating spell instead of the 'aresto momentum', and slowly Longbottom fell to the ground, light as a feather.

At the same time Harry had his broom manoeuvred underneath the falling boy and he grabbed the larger and more sturdy Longbottom on the back of his trousers, pulling him onto the broom in front of him.

Quickly Severus cast the same levitating spell onto the broom and everything would have gone well – if Longbottom would not have tried to turn towards Harry – probably to thank him. But the idiot child did and Harry immediately panicked as Longbottom's hand came up and he released the broom to throw his arms up in front of his face – and fell.

Everything happened so quickly that Severus wasn't able to cast the spell a third time, onto Harry this time and he imagined hearing the 'thud' when the boy hit the ground. A third time during as many minutes Severus nearly got a heart attack, but then he actually run towards the place where Harry lay.

"Out of my way!" He thundered and the first years that surrounded the fallen boy and hastily hurried away from him.

Quickly he bent beside the small form that was Harry and he immediately recognized him having trouble breathing, but he could not detect any injuries.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry felt his body slip off the broom. He hadn't meant to release the handle, but the other boy, he had forgotten his name, he had extended his hand towards him, instincts had taken over and he had raised his arms in order to protect himself from the blow he awaited. And thus he had slipped off the broom and now he was falling.

For a moment panic overtook him, but then – just at the moment when he was close to the ground and he closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see anything when he hit the earth – he felt as if he fell into a pile of cushions. The impact still was painful but he immediately knew that he had done accidental magic again, and that he had somehow done a mistake with it as it wasn't as soft as it should have been. Well, maybe it was better this way. He wasn't supposed to do accidental magic, now was he? And if he had not done it properly, then surely it was an improvement. Sort of.

But immediately a new panic overtook him as a bunch of children ran over to him, surrounding him, coming closer and closer and suddenly the air felt like water in his lungs and he couldn't breathe anymore.

He tried to draw in a breath, but he just couldn't and he tried to utter a scream for help. He needed the Professor. He needed Professor Snape. And he needed him now. He needed …

Strong hands suddenly held his shoulders and before he could panic further he heard the soft voice of the man he so desperately needed, even if that voice seemed to come from far away. He tried to concentrate onto only this voice. The hands that held his shoulders, pulled him into an upright position and he wanted those hands to hold him permanently. He now just had to get close to that voice too.

Severus placed his hands on Harry's shoulders and after a short check up for injuries and finding none, he shook the boy slightly.

"Breathe, Harry." He said, his voice trembling as did his hands. "Look at me, child! Please, do!" But Harry apparently was in a full blown panic attack and the only thing he could do was gasping for breath without getting some air into his lungs.

The Potions Master gently raised the boy's upper body into his arms until the boy was leaning with his back against his chest, his face deathly pale, and pointing his wand at the cramping chest he whispered a soft 'spirare'.

He focused with all his mental energy on the movement of the boy's lungs, willing them to work the air in and out as calmly and as steadily as possible while he tried to see the boy's deathly pale face.

"Just breathe, Harry." He whispered. "Everything will be alright. You are safe. Just breathe, child."

He still watched the boy's face close and he could see him going through different states of emotions, first panic when the child struggled for each breath, then confusion when his lungs suddenly worked on their own accord and finally relief when the boy got the much needed air into his lungs. He himself sighed a sigh of relief and he carefully ended the spell when he saw the relief taking place on Harry's face, ready to cast it again if the boy was not able to breathe by himself yet.

"That's right, child." He murmured when Harry in fact did breathe by himself. "Just take deep breathes."

Harry opened his eyes and saw Professor Snape kneeling beside him, and he felt himself surrounded again by the smell of potions ingredients the Professor's robes always gave away and immediately he was relieved. The Professor was there and he wasn't alone. He was safe.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Severus asked, concern still evident in his voice. "Are you hurt somewhere? Anywhere? In any way?"

Harry shook his head. He didn't tell him that he was in pain, because he didn't want to see the crinkle-eyed look that Professor Snape always wore when he was worried or upset or angry.

"Merlin thanks!" Severus whispered, running his hand over the boy's forehead and pushing a few strands of the unruly black hair aside. Right now he didn't care about the students that still were surrounding him, staring in near shock at him, nor did he mind Hooch who was just now looking after Longbottom. "What in Merlin's name did you think, child?" He asked. "You nearly got me three heat-attacks in as many minutes."

"I'm sorry." Harry signed, his face still pale and his eyes still startled and fearful.

"You should be sorry for almost breaking your neck Mr. Potter!" Severus finally managed to growl when the overwhelming feeling of relief finally left and he got his senses back under control. "Not even magic can fix everything, Mr. Potter, and surely nothing can replace _you _if you break your neck with stupid stunts like this."

"But the boy was about to fall off the … the …" Harry closed his eyes in frustration as he didn't find the word for 'broom' and he somehow knew that the Professor was angry at him. That he was _very_ angry at him this time. He really, really was in trouble this time, he knew it, and he was in for a punishment now.

Severus felt the tremors in the small shoulders he held, shoulders that were all bone and tendon and skin, sharp angles under his hands and he sighed. The boy was rigid with fear in his arms and he knew that it wasn't the aftershock of the fall, but fear of him. The boy somehow seemed to feel his anger rising now that the adrenaline left his body and he reacted in his habitual way. He had to keep a grip of himself and his anger under control.

"Hush now, child." He whispered softly, pulling Harry to his feet. "It's alright now. I have you." He looked the boy over with narrowed eyes, again searching for injuries and above finding none he nodded. "Are you alright?" He asked once more and the boy nodded. Severus guided the boy a few steps aside, away from the crowd of students and crouched beside him, keeping his hands on Harry's shoulders.

"I will have a word with Madam Hooch. Stay here, Harry. I will be back in a minute." He sternly said.

With those words Severus went over to the witch who just now finished watching the Longbottom boy over and he sneered at the first years that still were staring open mouthed at him.

"Shall I assign an essay on the correct display of manners to all of you as you seem to have nothing else to do than gawking?" He asked the students and the first years quickly shook their heads and made space upon recognizing that the dungeons bat that had acted rather strange during the past few minutes was back to his normal self.

"I wonder if you are capable of anything, Mr. Longbottom." Severus drawled, anger still blazing in his dark eyes when he reached Madam Hooch. "May I ask how Mr. Longbottom had been able to loose control of his broom in his very first class that was supervised by you, Rolanda?"

"You should know that within every first flying lesson an accident can happen, Severus." The hawk-eyes woman gave back. "Most of them are on a broom for the first time in their lives."

"Then maybe you should give some candidates that are potential dangers to themselves and others such as Mr. Longbottom, private lessons to ensure no one would come to harm." Severus sneered at the woman, his anger rising again.

"And maybe _you_ should keep a better eye on the children you have under your care, Severus." Madam hooch shot back. "Instead of letting them run away and get themselves into danger."

"You better keep Mr. Potter out of this, woman." The Potions Master seethed, leaning closer. "Would you have watched over this maladroit student of yours then Mr. Potter would not have felt the need to be of help."

Severus turned sharply. "Come here, Harry." He said, his voice still angry, holding out an inviting hand and his face softened a tad when his dark eyes fell on Harry. Nothing had happened and the boy was safe.

Swallowing thickly, because nothing good ever came from being told to 'come here,' Harry slowly did as he was told and marched over to the Professor.

Severus looked down at the nervous child and he had to fight to not give him a small smile as lifted his eyebrow at Harry. The boy looked ready to burst with regret over his misdeeds.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had kept his hands still while the Professor had led him back to the castle and down into the dungeons, but he felt as if his insides were about to turn outside. He felt as if his bowels were burning in one moment and freezing in the next moment and he wasn't able to concentrate onto anything without thinking back to the fact in how much trouble he was.

And as soon as they were in the Potions Master's private quarters he made his sign for apologizing as the Professor looked at him with a stern gaze.

"If I were in as much trouble as you are, young man, I would keep my hands still." Severus growled darkly. "You better go into your room until I have thought the situation through. I will be there shortly."

With bent shoulders and his head hanging low Harry went into his room where he sat on the floor beside his bed as he so often did, just to get up a few seconds later and to pace the room nervously, just to sit onto the edge of the mattress later, his face hiding in his hands that trembled despite his efforts to keep them still.

He knew that Professor Snape was not going to beat him as uncle Vernon had done. Somehow. But why did he feel so miserable then?

He also knew that the Professor wouldn't deny him food either. He knew it. But why did he feel like crying then?

And he knew that the Potions Master wouldn't lock him into a cupboard. He had said so, hadn't he? But why did he fear then that the man would?

Again he paced the room, nervously, wringing his hands.

Severus too was pacing, in front of the fireplace.

He was angry beyond reason. Why had the boy had to place himself into danger and in harms way. How had he even gotten close to this damn broom and why hadn't he asked him for help after seeing Longbottom struggling to keep his sorry behind on his own broom. How had he even been able to handle this damn broom without any instructions or practice in the first place?

He would have to make a point to the boy. And at the same time he knew that he had to be careful. He had to keep the anger he felt out of his features and out of his voice, knowing that he would have a hard time doing so. He was not a kind man to begin with, nor was he a patient man and he knew if he was angry then he could be right out nasty.

That was the irony of pushing a kind-natured child into a union with the worst-tempered person within miles. Only the sorting hat could come up with such.

Sighing heavily he went to Harry's room and opened the door without knocking at first. He normally did knock before he entered Harry's room, on the doorframe as the boy mostly kept his door open, but normally he always knocked. He didn't want the boy to get startled and frightened if he suddenly stood in the room without announcement beforehand. It was enough that the boy always flinched startled at the soft knock itself.

Harry meanwhile was still pacing. He would have to go away. He would have to go back to the Dursleys. And no one would hold him anymore when he had a nightmare, when he was afraid or when he was in pain. And suddenly he knew that he didn't care if he would have to go back to the Dursleys or not, he just didn't want to leave the Professor. He wanted the man. He wanted him so desperately. He needed him, him and no one else. But at the same time he knew that he had lost his chance and by the time Severus entered his room he was in a right state, shaking and tearful, and ready to do anything to make the Professor keep him for just one more day.

"Well, Harry." Severus said while he opened the door and took a step in. But he paused when he saw the boy, close to tears, his pale face desperate and the small hands shaking. "Harry? What's wrong?" He asked in a very different tone of voice.

Immediately the boy apologized over and over again, until the Potions Master took the small hands in his own to still their desperate movements, and even then the boy tried to pull his hands back to repeat his apology and Severus actually had to tighten the grip he had on the boy's hands.

Harry's mouth opened and closed, opened again and then closed again and Severus watched him patiently for a while, waiting if Harry would utter something before he had enough and he knelt in front of Harry, took the boy's both hands in one of his own so he had one hand free to grab the boy's chin.

"Look at me, Harry." He commanded, his voice low and calm. "Look at me and try to read my expression. Try to find out if I really would hurt you." But at the same moment he knew how stupid his words were. Of course the boy would not be able to read his expression, nor to understand it, or even believe it, as he never before had had the opportunity to do so with his relatives.

"I am angry, yes." He finally said, but he was able to keep his voice calm. That definitely was an improvement. "I am angry because you risked your own neck when you could have asked for help. You could have broken your neck and you could have died. You placed yourself in danger, unnecessarily. And that for I am angry, yes. But never would I hurt you because I am angry, and never would I hurt you because you made a mistake. I know that it is hard to trust someone when everyone has proven to be so untrustworthy, Harry. I do understand that. But you have to learn to trust, and you have to learn that you are not to solve everything alone. You are a child and you cannot solve everything alone. Not without placing yourself in danger."

The boy in front of him wasn't able to suppress his sobs any longer and Harry shook his head over and over again.

"What is it, child?" Severus asked, knowing how guilty the boy felt. He somehow sensed that the boy feared he would beat him, he would starve him, or he would shut him away in a cupboard as a punishment.

"I know …" The boy signed. "I know that you … that you don't want me anymore. I know that you will sent me away. Just please …" More sobs shook the small form now. "Just please … keep me one more day. I promise I will be good …"

The Potions Master had to close his eyes for a moment, and when he grasped the boy's hands again to stop them he sighed, shaking his head.

"Listen to me, Harry." He said, his voice severe "No, Harry!" He said when the boy again tried to get his hands back. "I will not send you away. I won't beat you, I won't starve you, and I won't lock you into a cupboard either. And surely I won't send you away. I won't even assign a punishment as you only wanted to do right and no one before told you to keep yourself out of harms way and to ask an adult for help. Keep this in mind, Mr. Potter. I am not going to send you away. I am just going to restrict you into your room for the next two hours until dinner so you can think of what you have done, what could have happened to you and what you could have done otherwise. Nothing more."

Harry nodded, his face down, drawn with desperation and his shoulders bent, and Severus easily noticed that the boy was close to tears. He nevertheless forced himself to turn and with a short nod towards Harry he left the room, closing the door behind him. He normally would have left the door open as he knew Harry felt more comfortable with the space the open door offered. But just now he wanted the boy to know that he had to stay inside his room, no matter what until he came back.

He would not back away or sidestep this time, he _had _to make a point as this time the boy had placed himself in danger. He could have died today and the boy had to realize it or he would do it again. And next time he maybe would not have as much luck as he'd had today. The boy would have to think about his actions. It was important for him to learn out of his mistakes. Nevertheless he wasn't able to brew the potions he had planned to brew today. He paced his living area instead, wondering what the boy might do, what he might think of at the moment. If he was well or if he was crying by now.

Well, from the wards he had set onto him, just in case the boy would begin to panic with his door closed, he could tell that Harry indeed _was_ crying, but that was nothing that eased him. He paced just the more.

Harry meanwhile leaned on the wall and let himself slide down to the floor. The Professor's look had pierced him to the soul. And one thing was for sure. If Professor Snape was going to regret being his guardian, well, then this was the moment.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The assigned two hours weren't over, in fact just a bit more than an hour had passed when Severus felt the wards change and unable to keep his worries at bay for any longer he went over to Harry's room. Over the past hour he had felt the desperation the boy felt, desperation that had increased over the time. But now he felt this desperation suffocating him and he just couldn't allow the boy to suffer any longer like this.

Harry meanwhile was sitting beside his bed on the floor, his knees drawn to his chest and his arms wrapped around his knees, sobbing uncontrollably by now.

He had let the Professor down. That was the worst of all.

But instead of really punishing him, the Professor just had sent him to his room. He hadn't even locked the door. He just had told him to stay inside and to think over what he had done.

He had let the Professor down. But the older wizard hadn't beaten him. And he wouldn't beat him either.

He just didn't understand it.

He had everything here. He had his own room. He had enough to eat and Professor Snape had told him that he never would starve him. The man never would beat him. And he hadn't even locked him in his room when he had been bad, when he was in trouble, when he had made the man angry. He even had a bed and he had clean clothes and bedclothes. He could take a bath every day if he wished. And Professor Snape spoke gently with him, he explained a lot to him and he held him if he was frightened or in pain.

He had everything he could think of. And he didn't miss anything. Professor Snape never was cruel with him. He even taught him potions and defence and he had shown him sign language and how to write so he could say what he wanted to say or needed to say. And he provided him with potions if he needed them.

And he had all this even if the had made the Professor angry. Even now he hadn't beaten him. He had said he would have dinner and until then he just had to stay in his room so he could think over what he had done. He wouldn't starve him. And he still had this room and food and clothes and … and the Professor had not even locked his door … and …

Professor Snape was mad at him but he still wouldn't have to be hungry and he still would have clean clothes and he still would …

He had let the professor down but still he wasn't locked in his cupboard and still he wasn't beaten and still he would get dinner and …

Rocking back and forth his sobbing increased while his thoughts circled. He should be glad. He should be happy. But he didn't know what he felt. He was confused and he was desperate and he was … he didn't know what he was … he didn't understand why he was still here, why he still wasn't beaten and why he still wasn't locked in his cupboard and why he still would get dinner and …

Just the moment when Severus opened the door to Harry's room he was greeted with a piercing and desperate scream and startled he stopped mid step. The boy was kneeling on the floor, bent forwards until the elbows of his arms that he had wrapped around his head touched the floor and his entire form was tensed up.

Ignoring the scream he quickly went over to the huddled form and kneeling down beside him he placed his hand on the boy's back, rubbing soothing circles over the small back and shoulders and finally taking those shoulders into a firm grip and pulling the tense body into his arms.

"Hush now, child." He whispered, knowing that this was the only way the boy was able to express the incredible desperation he felt. "Easy. Calm down, child. Everything will be alright. Just calm down. I am here, child. You are not alone. I will not sent you away. Just calm down, Harry."

It took him nearly half an hour until the boy had calmed enough in his arms so his sobbing had lessened and the violent shaking that had overtaken the small form had lessened to a slight trembling.

"What is wrong, Harry?" He finally asked, still keeping the boy in a tight embrace. He was sitting on the floor meanwhile, with his back leaning against the wall beside Harry's bed, holding the boy tightly towards his chest. "Hush now. Everything is alright. Just what is wrong, Harry?"

For another few minutes he got no answers but finally the boy began to sign with shaky hands.

"I don't know." He read. "I have everything … you won't beat me, even if I made you angry … and you won't … I still have something to eat … and you don't lock me in my cupboard … even if I'm bad … and I still have you … and … and … you're still here … and … and … you're still holding me … and … and … and … I don't deserve it … and …"

"Hush, child!" Severus commanded sternly, taking hold of the boy's hands to stop them from moving. "You deserve all this as much as any other child …"

Harry shook his head vehemently and pulled his hands out of the Potions Master's larger ones.

"No!" He signed. "No! I know I don't deserve to have you! I'm a burden and a freak and I'm disobedient, careless, bad and hopeless. I'm rude and … and … I'm stupid and … and … worthless and … and …" Now he had said it and he just would have to live without the Professor, without the man he so desperately needed, wanted … he had lived without him in the past and he would be able to do so in the future again … he just didn't know how he would be able to survive without the man now …

Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts and Head of Slytherin house didn't know how to deal with this. He felt as if he had been hit with the cruciatus for just too long a time.

"Harry!" He commanded, his voice loud so he would reach through to the boy's stupor he seemed to be in. "Stop! Stop this immediately! You are none of those things! You are …"

"I am!" Came the boy's answer. "I am dirty! I am dirty inside!"

Having enough Severus gripped Harry's hands in a tight grip while he turned the boy so he had him with his back against his chest and thus was able to keep a tighter grip on the small form. "Stop this at once. Mr. Potter!" He said. "You – are – not – dirty! There is absolutely nothing wrong with you on the inside! You are none of those things you insulted yourself with! And you deserve proper care as much as every other child does! You deserve to be cared for and you deserve to be loved! And if you ever should insult yourself thus again, then I really shall be angry! I hope I made myself very clear."

Still the boy shook his head against the Potions Master's chest and he tried to get his hands out of the man's grip to continue his signs but Severus still didn't release him. He would not allow the boy to insult himself any further.

"No, child!" He growled darkly. "I want you to stop this and I want you to listen! I was very angry, yes. But only because I was worried about you. You could have broken your neck today, you could have died today. I was angry at you, yes, but that doesn't mean that I stopped caring for you. Damn, yes. I do love you! And I still do love you even if I am angry. And I always will love you."

For a moment Harry's struggling had stopped and he had gone rigid in his arms, but now the boy lay limply in his arms, weakly shaking his head, silently sobbing.

"I will release your hands if you promise me to _not _insult yourself further in any way, Harry." Severus said and after the nod that came from the boy he slowly released the small hands.

"But I don't understand." Came the small signs. "I don't understand how you can. And I don't understand why I have food and clothes and a room and why I'm not locked in my cupboard when you are angry. I don't understand it. I just don't understand!"

"How could you, child!" The Potions Master sighed and he closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wall behind him for a moment before he placed his chin over the top of the child's head. "How could you understand this if you never have learned it, if you never have been provided with such."

Again he sighed and one of his hands came up to run over the small face. How could those monsters do all those things to the child until a point where the boy wasn't able to understand anything else than the abuse he had endured for years at the hands of them? How could anyone do such to a child? Would he even be able to teach the child that this, what he now believed to be normal wasn't normal? Would the child be able to one day believe him? Or would he forever fear he would loose that minimum of a normal life he now had?

"You were made to obey out of only fear, Harry." He said, trying to explain anything. "But I do not want you to obey me out of fear, but out of respect and common sense. This fear, you always felt with your relatives, that fear made you to try and fix your problems alone, disregarding your own safety. But I want you to regard your safety because I do not know what I would do if something happened to you. You might not understand it now and maybe you never will understand it, but you have become a reason for my life. In a family, not in the Dursley's family, but in any normal family, people sometimes are angry. But that does not mean that they do not love each other anymore. And if I am angry with you, then that too does not mean that I do not love you anymore. I do not know how I can explain it to you, because I am not a man who is experienced in dealing with emotions. I do not love many people. I only can say, that I do love you. And I want you to regard your own safety because I would … I would be very, very sad if something happened to you."

"But how?" Came the small question. "Why?"

"I fear, I do not know an answer to your question." Severus had to admit. "I am at a loss here as well as you are. I just know that it is so."

Harry leaned back against Professor Snape's chest and the older wizard continued to run his hand over his face while his other hand was placed onto the front of his shoulder, holding him against him in silence. He wasn't sure how he felt. He just knew that it wasn't a bad feeling. Even if he still didn't understand it.

"Let us have dinner." Severus said, getting to his feet and pulling Harry with him. He carded his hand one more time through the boy's hair before he led him out of his room and then into the small kitchen.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus had thrown a few searching looks at Harry during dinner and now he narrowed his eyes at the boy. He had thought to see him limping for a moment earlier but it had been gone the moment he had seen it. And now he had seen the boy rubbing his left wrist for a few times during the past few minutes. And upon a closer look at said part of the boy's body, he could see it was swollen.

"Harry?" He asked, his eyebrow raised and the boy looked up at him.

"Let me see your wrist." Severus simply said, his dark eyes fixing the boy.

Harry immediately dropped his gaze, his dinner forgotten and his hands dropped into his lap.

"Your wrist, Harry!" Severus sternly commanded and Harry swallowed dryly before hesitantly reaching his hand towards the older wizard who took it into his own hand and probed the thin wrist, causing Harry to wince with pain. He finally sighed. It definitely was sprained.

"If my memory serves me right, Mr. Potter, then I told you that I do not like to be lied to." Severus growled sternly and Harry wanted nothing more than crashing his head against the table in front of him. He knew that the Professor could read his mind and he was a fool trying to hide this from the older wizard.

He tried to pull his hand out of Professor Snape's so he could give an answer but the Potions Professor increased the hold he had on him while his eyes seemed to blaze with anger.

"You are not going to use this hand for signing, Harry." He said, summoning the boy's quill, ink and a parchment. "The next few days I fear, you will have to write down what you want to say."

Harry nodded, still subdued, and he took the quill, dipped it into the ink and then began to write his answer. He still was slow with his writing but he improved in a daily rate. He meanwhile was able to write nearly everything without mistakes. And the Professor always said that his handwriting was perfect. At least for his age and the fact that he had just learned how to write.

'but you said you would be sad if something happened to me and I didnt want you to be sad

I mean

it will go away

it always goes away and then Im fine'

After reading the note Severus closed his eyes and forced each muscle in his body to relax, one by one before he opened them again to see that the boy still was watching him, a hint of fear in his eyes now once again.

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about, Harry?" Severus asked, his voice rough with emotion and he grabbed Harry by the shoulders. Harry couldn't help but flinch and at the same time sadness and pain flickered across Severus' face. He should be used to Harry flinching away whenever he touched him, above all if he touched him after an argument. But somehow he knew that he never would get used to it. Not with Harry.

'just that I didnt want you to be sad'

Harry wrote and Severus shook his head.

"No, Harry. That is not what I meant. I rather meant the part regarding your choice of words 'it always goes away'." He growled darkly. Sometimes he seemed to forget how deep this child's fears lay, and how far his inability to see reason about the abuse went. "I know that your relatives left you alone with broken bones. And I know that you think they always healed with time. But they didn't, Harry. Do you know how much bones Madam Pomfrey had to re-break in order to set them correctly? Just think about your fingers, Harry. They might have been healed with time, but they never healed rightly and thus they had been distorted when you arrived here. We were able to correct them, but we had been lucky. Not every time it would be possible. If something is wrong, then you have to tell me about it so I can help with it, so I can heal it, so I can do anything to ease the situation. Such is important."

Harry looked at his hands when Professor Snape mentioned them and memories washed over him. He didn't even hear the rest of what the man said to him, he didn't recognize that the Professor even still talked to him, he just looked at his hands, horror on his face and all he could see was the fingers that were distorted and cramped and clumsy and unusable and … with a low gasp he spun out of his seat and started running towards the door. He had to get away. He had to get out. He had to get …

Severus left his own chair and moved to catch the boy before he ran away. He had seen the look on Harry's face and he knew exactly what was going through the boy's mind. He didn't even have to use legillimens. It was written clearly over the young forehead and he placed his hands loosely on the boy's shoulders, careful not to restrain him or grasp him too roughly.

"It is alright, Harry." He soothed, careful to keep his voice low and even. "It is alright. They are well now. And you are well too. You are no longer alone to deal with such things. Hush, child. Calm down. Everything is alright. Look at them, Harry. They are alright now." He took the boy's hands and held them in his own so the boy could look at them, could recognize that they were indeed alright, could get out of his daze and back to reality.

Harry looked down at his hands that were held by the Professor and finally realizing that he had been lost in the past, that they were as good as they had been the past days, weeks, that he could move them, use them, he began to sob. He tried to back away from the older wizard, not wanting to cry again in front of the man, but Professor Snape tightened the grip on his shoulders. Immediately he gave the sign away for apologizing, as always, still sobbing.

"Harry." The Professor's voice was very quiet, but a gentle quiet and not the angry quiet he could sometimes get. "You are allowed to cry if you need to. You are allowed to tell me if you are in pain. You are allowed to tell me everything you want or need to tell me. But you are not allowed to apologize for things that are not your fault."

He couldn't have stopped the tears then, even if he had tried. They ran freely down his face as he leaned himself into the Professor's arms and sobbed, his face buried in the Potions Master's robes that smelled of potions ingredients and herbs. He couldn't even have put into words what his tears were for, but it seemed like they were for everything. For the cupboard, for uncle Vernon's belt, for being hungry, for trying to ignore the blood that stained his old blanket in the cupboard and knowing that it was his own blood, for the bathtub and for every other horrors he had lived through before he came to Hogwarts.

Severus rubbed small and soothing circles on Harry's back and let him cry. "It is all right, child, you can cry. I am here and I have you. You are safe here. I am just here and I have you, child. Do not hide your tears from me, neither your pain nor your fears. Do not hide them. Not from me."

The kind and gentle words, spoken in this dark and yet so soothing voice, only made him cry harder. But there was something else about his sobs, something that felt good, that felt right while he was crying. He felt as if all the bad things were being released from the prison he had build for them in his mind so many years ago and he felt cleaner afterwards. Almost peaceful and all that was left afterwards was tiredness and exhaustion. He didn't think he would be able to move and neither did he really want to move, he wanted to be held by the Professor for all eternity for he felt safe right now.

Severus still held the child pressed against his chest, carding his fingers through the unruly mop of soft, black hair and he wondered again how this boy could cling to him so tightly when there still were so weak muscles in this small and thin body. He sensed that the boy needed just this right now and nothing else and he was ready to give the boy what he needed. He somehow sensed the boy's feeling, as if he would have opened up to him and he just allowed the emotions to wash over him.

Well, it weren't really much of emotions. It weren't even really thoughts. The boy was not moving, not thinking, not really feeling. He seemed to just exist for now.

When the boy's sobs finally stopped and his breathing became more and more even and deep, his body leaning forwards against Severus' chest, the Potions Master realized that – exhausted by the emotional turmoil today – Harry was beginning to fall asleep in the unnatural awkward position.

"Let us put you to bed, you disobedient child." Severus murmured, cradling the boy into his arms and placing the child on his hip so he could carry him more comfortably, carrying him into his room. The boy sneaked his arms around his neck, clinging to him as if to a lifeline and he leaned his head against his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing for him to do.

"I shall not leave you and I shall not sent you away either." The dark man that had been a Death Eater once whispered while he ran his free hand up and down the child's back, wondering how this child could be in his arms in such a natural way when he never before had been carried like this, wondering how _he _could carry the boy in such a natural way when he never before had done so with any child.

The boy in his arms sighed nearly peaceful and Severus placed the small, nearly asleep form on the bed.

"Let me change you into your pyjamas, child." He whispered. "Here … put your arm through the sleeve … that's right. Now go to sleep, child. You are at Hogwarts and you are safe. I am with you and I won't leave you alone."

Harry sat up in his bed, his eyes sleepy and unfocused and he tried to sign something but Severus immediately placed his hand on the small chest and pushed the boy back against the pillow. "Sleep, child." He whispered, running his index finger over the boy's forehead and then down over the bridge of the small nose, causing the boy to blink and then close his eyes. "Sleep. Close your eyes and sleep. Nothing else than peaceful quiet will await you there. Allow your eyes to drop close and sleep."

He watched his own finger running over this small nose while Harry dropped back into the world of sleep and he narrowed his eyes. Something in this nose disturbed him. This nose wasn't James Potter's nose, but neither was it Lily's nose. He somehow knew this nose, he had seen it before.

It was the normal nose of a child. Yet, it was a bit longer than Lily's had been, not as delicate and it was not quite as pointed as Potter's had been.

Shaking his head and dismissing his thoughts he shoved Harry's left sleeve up the child's arm.

"Let us see what we can do here." He whispered to himself and gently he again probed the thin wrist before he placed the tip of his wand above the soft skin and muttered a spell, running his wand up and down the small wrist until he smiled satisfied and stroke his thumb over the soft skin. The boy's wrist would be alright by tomorrow.

Shaking his head he rolled up the boy's pyjama leg and moved his wand over the ankle, finding the damage and again he shook his head and moved his wand over the soft skin, muttering the healing spell. Again he felt the magic flow through his hand, through his wand, working on the injury and healing the ankle.

He carded his fingers through Harry's hair and then rested his hand lightly against his forehead.

How could he _feel_ so much for this child, in such a short time? He felt his lips curve up in a smile and unintentionally he stroke his thumb over the boy's face.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

That night Harry suffered one of the worst nightmares he'd had since Severus first had taken him in and he could not be calmed for over an hour. It had been about his uncle, again, and the cupboard. Being locked in this small and dark space, hungry and in pain, knowing that he wouldn't get anything to eat anytime soon, being left alone in this damn cupboard, being left alone with no food, being left alone with no one to ease his misery, being left alone and Severus nearly cried himself while listening to the boy's whimpering and pleas for his uncle to let him out, being hungry, crying that it hurt, whatever it was that hurt, apparently actually _feeling_ all those horrors again that no child should feel, and the only thing he could do was rocking the child in his arms, whispering gentle and calming words into the boy's ear. The only thing he could do to ease himself was silently swearing vows to the image of Lily that he would see Harry to get over this, swearing silent vows to Lily that he never would allow anything like this happening to the boy ever again.

After the boy finally was awake enough to understand that he was not back at Privet Drive and that he was not back with those damn muggles, that he was in the castle and that he was safe and with Professor Snape he immediately began to sign apologies again, to try and give an explanation that somehow would lessen the worries the Professor showed and Severus had to catch his hands to stop him.

"You are not to use this hand at the moment, Mr. Potter." He growled in his usual manner in order to hide his emotions behind his usual cold demeanour and he reached the parchment and quill over to the boy. "It is not you who should be ashamed, child. Neither for having nightmares in the first place nor for the kind of nightmares you are suffering from. You have done nothing wrong."

'but if they had been different

or maybe if I had been different

maybe they would have

you know

been glad to have me'

Severus growled darkly and his gaze narrowed at the boy, not liking the sad and empty look in those green eyes.

"There is nothing wrong with you, Mr. Potter." He growled darkly. "You are a perfect fine child. The behaviour your relatives displayed is to blame. They are criminals and they are evil and abominable monsters. They have destroyed your childhood and they nearly have killed you. They have hurt you in a way that is wicked and evil. You – on the other side – have done nothing wrong, child."

'but if it is so a bad thing then why did they do it

they said it was my own fault'

Severus sighed heavily, knowing that he would have to assure this child a thousand times more that it wasn't his fault, that it had been wrong what his relatives had done to him. Sometimes he even feared that the child never would understand this, that his relatives had destroyed his ability to understand this information.

"It surely was not your own fault, child." He said. "And I will repeat it a thousand times more if I have to. One day, you will be able to see this, Harry. And until then, I will say it over and over again. They cannot hurt you anymore, Harry, not with new horrors. And the old horrors you have suffered, I will be here to help you dealing with them. And one day you will be able to face them and to say 'I am not scared of you anymore, you cannot hurt me anymore'. Until then, I will be here with you and until then I will help you to the best of my abilities to get over the horrors you have faced at their hands. But I want you to see that it never had been your fault. Only your relatives are to blame for the nightmares they had brought upon you."

Severus didn't release Harry, he simply stretched out next to him and pulled the boy closer into his arms, placing his hand over the child's head until Harry's ear was above his heart. He simply had to stay. He had to stay because of the nightmares. Not because of the boy's nightmares, but because of his own ones as he knew that he would dream about a small green eyed child with black unruly hair that was locked in a cupboard, that was hungry, that was hurt and in pain, that was alone in all his misery. He knew he would not be able to block out those images, not even if he occluded his mind before he would go to bed.

Harry's grip he'd had on his robes relaxed immediately and the small hand curled itself around the larger one of the man while the boy relaxed against his chest.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Severus uses a figure of speech towards Harry without thinking and Harry reacts on it, trying to run away …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter as well ... thank you


	24. through the eyes of others

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses, as I always will honour your time you took with reviewing the chapters with a review by my own ...

and … well … I am sorry to say ... at the end of the last chapter, I announced that in this chapter Harry will be upset by a figure of speech Severus uses without thinking and that Harry tries to run away because of this. Well, I have to shove this chapter up to next week, as I thought it more important to write about some reactions from the Gryffindors and the Slytherins to what they had observed during the last chapter ...

**Added Note:**

.oO( … yes … it still is there … )

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question and scrutinize every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_He knew that he would dream about a small green eyed child with black unruly hair that was locked in a cupboard, that was hungry, that was hurt and in pain, that was alone in all his misery. He knew he would not be able to block out those images, not even if he occluded his mind before he would go to bed._

_Harry's grip he'd had on his robes relaxed immediately and the small hand curled itself around the larger one of the man while the boy relaxed against his chest._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter twenty-four**

**Through the eyes of others**

"Did you see Snape?" Ronald Weasley, the youngest redhead of the Weasleys asked, leaning over the table to whisper into Hermione Granger's ear.

The bushy haired Girl rolled her eyes at the boy. Of course she had seen the Potions Master. She had been there.

Well, since the flying lesson they all had been in some kind of shock. They had been silent, and it had been a stunned silence, a nearly startled one. And now they were sitting in the great hall, having dinner and the whispering broke loose everywhere.

The story had been passed down from the Gryffindor first years on their way to the great hall to the Hufflepuff first years and then from the Hufflepuff first year students on their way to their table to the Ravenclaw first year students.

The first years soon had told the second years what had been happening during the flying lesson, the second years retold the story to the third years and the third years explained everything to the fourth years. The fourth years soon were seen with the fifth years and only a few minutes later the fifth years had their heads mingled together with the sixth year students. And the sixth years – well, they of course gave the story to the seventh year students.

While they had been walking back to the castle Hermione had been lost in her own thoughts, while Ron had been walking into the great hall with his mouth still hanging open. Neville still had been in a near shock and the rest of the Gryffindor first year students had been in half a daze.

Well, it was no wonder. They all knew the Potions Master since five weeks now, and they all had learned that he was a cold, a dark and a tough man. They all had learned to fear him. And they all had learned to fear his cold and sarcastic comments, his death glare and his cold demeanour, his none caring ways.

They all had learned to fear the man that always displayed an indifferent and cold mask, standing in the classroom, straight and rigid, his arms folded over his chest and his harsh, dark eyes piercing them until they shivered and locked aside.

And now the Potions Master had acted in the strangest way imaginable, caring for one of the students.

"Of course have I seen Snape." Hermione said. "I was there, remember? And I'm not blind."

"But did you see what he did?" Ron asked.

"Of course have I seen what he did." Hermione answered, shaking her head.

"And?" Ron asked.

"What and?" Hermione demanded.

"What do you think?" Ron's voice really got annoyed by now. "It's just weird. Snape acting in such a way towards a student. If Potter still is a student that is."

"And why shouldn't he be?" Fred asked, taking a seat beside Ron while George seated himself on the youngest Weasley's other side.

"So, it is true?" George asked. "And Snape carried a dead Harry Potter away, crying?"

"After Potter saved poor Neville and fell from the broom because they hit the west tower?" Fred wanted to know.

"What?" Hermione asked, close to a shock. "That is not what happened."

"But it comes close." Ron murmured.

"What now?" Fred demanded, looking from Ron to Hermione and then back to Ron. "Is it true? Or not?"

"It isn't." Hermione rolled her eyes again. "Neville lost control over his broom, Potter saved him from falling, yes, but someone cast a levitating spell onto him first. And then Potter fell from the broom, yes. But nothing happened to him."

"Well he couldn't breath at first, could he?" Ron piped up and immediately Fred smacked his head.

"Let Hermione tell the story." The twin said.

"She's better at that." The other twin demanded.

"Sometimes it's just a good thing to have a source at hand, don't you think little brother?"

"So we can hear the story first handed."

"Well, yes. Potter seemed unable to breath at first …" Hermione began, but he was interrupted by Ron again.

"And then Snape was there and he cradled Potter into his arms and incanted a spell." The first year Weasley threw in, unable to keep his mouth shut.

"It was 'spirare'." Hermione explained. "It is Latin and means 'breathe'. It's a medical spell."

"Of course it is a medical spell." George laughed. "Everyone knows that. But what would Snape want with a medical spell? Only medics can incant them."

"So Snape really cradled Potter?" Fred grinned evilly. "Our dark and could Potions Master actually cradled a firsty?"

"As a Potions Master he has to absolve a medical education." Hermione explained. "I've read it in 'Potions through the ages'. You need a medical education if you want to become a Potions Master because you have to work with dangerous potions and with potions required in hospitals."

"Ok, ok." Fred rolled his eyes, leaning closer.

"But he really cradled Potter?" George wanted to know, his voice impatient.

"He did." Hermione answered. "And he really looked worried."

"He nearly cried." Ron threw in and both twins looked in shock at him and then back to Hermione.

"Is that true, what our younger brother says?" George asked. "Snape really nearly cried?"

"Of course it is not." Hermione said, but she definitely looked unsure. "But he really looked worried, I mean, really worried. He looked as if, well … I don't know … he looked upset."

"What was wrong with Potter anyway?" Fred asked.

"I don't know." The girl said, her gaze thoughtful. "He didn't hit the ground that hard, I guess Snape cast a cushioning spell on him. It looked like he fell into cushions, halfway at least. Maybe he hadn't had enough time to cast the spell correctly. But it really wasn't such a hard fall. Maybe he just panicked."

"Yes, maybe." Ron said. "And then Snape actually cradled him. He really took him into his arms. And he nearly cried. He even begged Potter to breath."

"He did _what_?" George gasped and Fred coughed at the sip of pumpkin juice he had taken.

"Snape never begs." Fred said when he had himself back under control. "Snape just demands. He never begs."

"He did." Ron said, looking at his brothers in a way that clearly said he wasn't a liar.

"Listen, Ron." George said, doubt dripping from his voice. "We know Snape since two years now."

"And Snape doesn't beg." Fred threw in.

"He only demands and what he demands you better …"

"Do at once and do it correctly …"

"If you want to keep yourself out of detention or worse …"

"And surely Snape never cries …"

"Snape isn't even able to show any feelings at all …"

"But he really did." Ron shook his head.

"No, he didn't." Hermione shook her head.

"Wait a moment." Fred looked confused. "What now? Did he beg? Or did he not?"

"Well, he did." The girl blinked at him. "But he didn't beg him to breath, he begged him to look at him."

"That's the same, Hermione!" George said. "So he begged."

"But that's not all." Ron looked at his brothers, from one to the other, as if he was about to tell a great secret. "You remember? That Potter never spoke? And you remember, that we wondered if he actually would be able to speak?"

Both twins nodded.

"Well, as it seems, he really cannot speak." Ron said. "He used sign language. And Snape actually understood him! He actually answered him."

"In sign language?"

"No." Ron looked exasperated. "Of course he spoke with Potter. But Potter used sign language and Snape understood him."

"I got that part, baby brother." George said. "So, Potter can't speak but either he can hear or he is capable of lip-reading."

"I bet he can hear." Fred said.

"I bet against it." George nodded.

"I get your broom kit if he can." Fred demanded.

"And I get your broom kit if he can't." George smirked.

"Done."

"Done."

Hermione shook her head at the two of them.

"You have no broom kit, none of you both." Ron piped up again.

"I know." Fred said, smirking.

"But you have one, Ronnikins." George laughed.

"You are …"

"Don't say it, Ronnikins." Fred threatened.

"Or do you want us writing mum that you exploded a toilet?"

"But I didn't …"

"And mum doesn't know that you didn't …"

"Well, I won't tell you what happened next." Ron said, glaring at his brothers.

"Never mind, Ronnikins." Both twins said in unison, turning towards Hermione.

"Well, Snape then actually accused Madam Hooch that she had been careless because of Neville losing control over his broom." The girl continued the story, ignoring Ron's angry glare at her. "And that Potter got into danger because of her."

"Well, that's no news." Fred shook his head. "Snape never cared much if he went against a student or another teacher. He mostly might go against the students, but he sometimes goes against the other teachers as well. I have seen it before."

"With Quirrel" George said.

"And with Trelawney." Fred added.

"And with Filch too." George continued.

"And with Kettleburn." Fred finished.

"With nearly every one." George smirked.

"Yes, but never with McGonagall and never with Hagrid."

"Never with McGonagall?" Hermione lifted her eyebrow while Ron forgot being angry.

"But McGonagall is a Gryffindor and Snape is a Slytherin." He piped up.

"Not that again, Ron. Please." Hermione rolled her eyes. "I already told you that McGonagall doesn't like the house rivalry. I guess the adults are above such and actually get alone."

"However, it is no wonder he went against Madam Hooch." Ronald Weasley growled. "Potter is a Slytherin. And he always protects them."

"Yes, but never before has he cradled one of his Slytherins." Fred said, his gaze resting thoughtfully at his twin.

"Nor has he ever been begging for something, not even his Slytherins." George answered, his gaze as thoughtful as his brother's.

"As I already told you, Potter is on his best way to become the next dark wizard." Ron claimed, his eyes large.

"What nonsense, Ron!" Hermione shook her head at the red haired boy opposite her.

"Then why should he … why should he … _cradle_ him?" Ron actually shivered at the thought of being cradled by Snape.

"Well …" George slowly began.

"Did you ever have a close look at Potter?" Fred continued.

"He is a scrawny little thing." George said, his eyes still thoughtful, this time directed towards the Slytherin table.

"With his black hair …"

"And his Snape-like face …"

Ron looked confused from one twin to the other and then back to the first one, not grasping what they meant.

"You think, Potter could be Snape's son?" Hermione asked, taking the hint a lot quicker than Ron who now spit the pumpkin juice over the entire table, ignoring Hermione's disgusted look and blinked in confusion at his brothers.

"Well, it could be." Fred shrugged his shoulders. "Couldn't it?"

"Potter is Snape's son." Ron gasped in shock.

"I doubt it." Hermione said. "Just remember what Potter looks like. He's so thin and he really looks ill. He looks as if no one ever took care of him. And Snape might be a tough and an unfair teacher, but surely he wouldn't neglect his own son."

"Potter really is Snape's son." Ron murmured again.

"Right." George chewed at his lower lip in concentration. "And he never neglects his Slytherins. But …"

"Snape has a son, and it is Potter." The youngest Weasley groaned.

"But Potter really looks a lot like Snape." Fred argued. "And, well. Snape's mid-thirty, isn't he? He could have an eleven year old son."

"Potter is Snape's son." Again it was Ron who murmured this.

"He's thirty-one." Hermione answered. "But really. Potter has a different sure name. It's not Harry Snape, but Harry Potter."

"Potter is …"

"Oh, shut up, Ron!"

"Oh, shut up, Ronnikins!"

"Stop it, Ronald!"

"What?" Ron asked exasperated. "What? I mean, just imagine. If Potter is Snape's son … then Snape actually would have … uargh … who would want Snape as a husband?"

"Ron!" Hermione nearly shouted, shocked at the other boy's thoughts. "Really!"

"Never mind that, Ron, but get a grip of yourself!" Fred demanded, growling at his younger brother.

"However, if Potter really is Snape's son, then he really has my pity." Ron shuddered again, his face pale now. "I surely wouldn't want him as a father."

"Well, alone the thought to have a professor …"

"Any professor …"

"As your father …"

"Or mother …"

"Here at Hogwarts …"

"What a horrible thought." Ron shuddered – a third time now, his gaze wandering towards the stuff table where Snape normally was sitting.

"You don't know what he is like in privacy." Hermione suggested, her eyes following Ronald Weasley's gaze. "You see, Snape is missing since Potter is missing. And then we see the both of them outside, Potter falling from the broom, Snape being worried, cradling Potter. Then he understands the sign language Potter addressed him with, he goes against Madam Hooch, accusing her that it was her fault that Potter fell off the broom, and in the end he leads Potter back into the castle, his hand on Potter's shoulder. That doesn't sound to me as if Snape wouldn't care, nor as if Snape wouldn't be a good father."

All three Weasleys blinked at her in near shock.

"You're not being serious, Hermione." Ron said. "You _know_ Snape. This man isn't able to care and surely he isn't able to be a good father. He's just cold and dark. And unfair."

"Well …"

"Our good Hermione has a point …"

"Somehow …"

"Snape might be unfair, unkind and nasty towards the students …

"But he isn't nasty towards the Slytherins …"

"And maybe …"

"You all are stupid." Ron said. "I bet Potter is Snape's son, you know?" He growled darkly. "And I bet it had been Snape who made him ill and neglected him! Maybe he even beats him."

"Don't be stupid, Ronnikins."

Well, the discussions went on, on the Gryffindor table and on the tables where the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws were sitting, but the Weasley's and Hermione were the only ones who came to the ridiculous idea that Snape could be Potter's father. Some of the other students rather thought that the Potions Master was ill somehow.

Well, it would at least explain why all the classes above first year were taught by Dumbledore this year instead of Snape. And it would explain why Snape wasn't seen in the corridors harassing students, nor at the stuff table during meals. Maybe he was ill and about to lose his mind. Or maybe he had been poisoned and now searched for an antidote. Or maybe he had been brewing a potion and there had been an accident. The opinions differed into every directions one could think of.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was a different thing at the Slytherin table.

The Slytherins were quiet.

Well, they always were quiet, they had manners after all. But they were just the more quiet tonight during dinner, and soon they finished their meals and left the great hall, went towards the dungeons and into their common room. There they would have enough privacy to exchange their thoughts.

"You have been there today, Draco." Marcus Flint the prefect began the discussion. "You have seen Potter. How is he? What do you think?"

"I don't know." The blond answered. "At least I'm not really sure. He looked better than last time I saw him, but he still looked ill. Too thin and too pale. And Professor Snape really was worried."

"Has he been hurt any further by the fall?" Flint wanted to know and Draco shook his head.

"No, he fell as if a cushioning charm had been placed on him. But not a good one. I guess he did it by himself with accidental magic. But he got into a panic attack after the Gryffindors stupidly gathered around him. We tried to get them away, but they didn't care what we said, as always."

Flint sighed. He knew the Gryffindors and their curiosity. And he knew that the Gryffindors never listened to the Slytherins. He'd had such situations before. One of their house-mates going into a panic attack because they got too close and the Gryffindors in their curiosity gathering even closer, not listening to them and a few times he just had to grab the panicking Slytherin to get him, or her, away from them as they wouldn't back away.

They might not do it on purpose, but they nevertheless harmed them with their behaviour.

"I guess Professor Snape had been able to solve the problem easily?" He asked and Draco nodded.

"Yes." The younger student confirmed. "He got Potter to breathe normally and then he got him away from the crowd."

"Good." The Prefect nodded satisfied. "Any other problems out there?"

"Not really." Theodore shook his head. "The only strange thing was, Potter didn't speak with Professor Snape. He used sign language."

Marcus Flint frowned at the first year, his eyes resting on the student curiously.

"How so?" He asked.

"I don't know, Marcus." Draco answered instead of Theodore who shrugged his shoulders. "He asked him what he had been thinking and he told him, that he nearly got a heart-attack. Then Potter signed something, I don't know what as I don't understand sign language. But Professor Snape apparently did, as he reacted to Potter's signs. I guess, Potter might have apologized, because Professor Snape said he should be sorry for almost breaking his neck. But he didn't reprimand him, he just said it and he really sounded worried. Never before have I seen him like this."

"That means something as he's your godfather." Warrington who had been looking thoughtful up to now said and a few of the Slytherins nodded.

"Correct." Marcus Flint confirmed. "Well, I think it's no wonder. Potter is away since five weeks now. Never before has one of us been away for _so_ long." He shook his head, his gaze wandering off towards Dudley Dursley.

"Dursley." He called over and the boy looked up at him, a dull, questioning expression on his face. "Your cousin, Harry, is he mute?"

"Dunno." Dursley shrugged his shoulders.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Draco turned towards his muggle classmate. "You are his cousin. You have been living with him for eleven years. You surely do know if Harry is able to speak."

He didn't understand how this boy could be so – uncaring.

He easily slipped into using Potters given name when speaking with Dursley as Marcus Flint had initiated, not questioning the prefects actions, just following them. He knew Marcus would have a reason for calling Potter by his given name when he addressed Dursley.

"Why should I know?" Dursley said. "He wasn't allowed to speak, so he didn't. That's no big deal."

Draco helplessly turned towards Marcus Flint, not wanting to provoke a fight, but knowing that he was close to doing so.

"Who forbade Harry to speak?" The prefect wanted to know, gently shoving Draco out of the way on his shoulders so he stood between the two first years.

"My father of course." Dursley answered and Flint huffed at him angrily.

"Then your father is a monster." He growled. "And an idiot too. But we already knew that, didn't we? If Harry really is mute now, then it is your father's fault. And you, you are just sitting there and you do not care. Your own cousin, and you do not care. You should be ashamed of yourself."

He turned back towards the other first years.

"How was Professor Snape?" He wanted to know, addressing all the first years. "Did you think he was alright?"

Well, normally they saw their head of house every day at least once. The Professor visited the common room every evening, looking for them, demanding to know of any problems, never mind if problems of a private nature or if they had problems with their studies. They normally saw him twice a week during potions and they saw him during meals in the great hall. And Marcus knew that it wasn't an easy task handling one of their abused classmates. He had been in this position once and he knew how tired the Professor had been back then. And now he just wanted to know if he was alright.

"He was alright, I guess." Draco answered, knowing the man better than the rest of the students and Marcus nodded. "He just was worried. He looked tired a bit, but he looked well. Just really worried. For a moment when Potter couldn't breath I thought he looked a bit panicked, but it was ok after Potter began to breath again. He looked really relieved then and pleased."

"Ok, thank you, Draco." The prefect nodded his head. "And now, what happened that Potter was on a broom in the first place? I am sure that Madam Hooch didn't invite him to the flying lesson. And even if, Professor Snape surely would not have allowed it."

"Well." Draco sighed, knowing that he was in trouble now, but also knowing that it wouldn't do any good if he tried to hide the truth. The Slytherins chose their words well in order to protect themselves as good as possible, having learned such from a very young age, but the Slytherins never lied. "Well, Longbottom lost control over his broom." He thus explained. "I have taken his remembrall and he tried to get it back. And in his haste he forgot that he still was on his broom and began to fly. And then he lost control over it. Apparently Potter has seen it and wanted to help."

The prefect just nodded at him. "Thank you for telling the truth, Draco." He said after a few seconds. "I expect you to write an essay on what you did, why you did it and why you shouldn't have done it. I want you to hand it over to me on Friday evening."

"Ok, Marcus." Draco said, lowering his head.

"You really will do what he says?" Dursley's voice came from the corner he was sitting in. "He's not a teacher."

"No, he's not." Draco turned towards the other boy. "But he's a prefect, and whenever a head of a house isn't present, then the prefects are in charge. They say what is to be done and they set punishments according to what the head of the house would do. The heads of houses nominate the prefects, and they trust them to act reasonable and as they themselves would do. And thus, yes, I of course do as Marcus says."

Dursley shrugged his shoulders and continued reading the book he held in his hands. It was just unnerving, the amount of school work he had to do. And the classes he had to visit were just stupid. And he wasn't even allowed to visit all the classes.

The subject he hated the most was potions. It was a stupid subject and he wasn't the one that should be acting like a cook. That was Potter's place, not his. And he hated Snape who taught the subject. But he knew that he had to do as Snape said or he would be in trouble. In a lot of trouble actually. So he learned.

The students all in all began to follow their own schedules. Some sat together as study groups, others sat alone, reading and the rest chatted, depending on how much work they had left to do.

Draco and Theodore went over to Marcus Flint.

"I think, Severus really likes Potter." Draco began, leaning back in one of the armchairs, watching the prefect who tried to concentrate onto an essay he was writing. Sighing in defeat Marcus laid the quill aside and leaned back too. If Draco wanted to talk about it, then he should listen.

"I don't know, Draco." He said. "I didn't see them interact."

"I know. But I saw it." Draco answered. "And from what I saw, I really think Severus likes him a lot. And you know Severus. He isn't one how easily likes students. Well, yes. I know, he likes us Slytherins. But not like this. He didn't act like a teacher, or a head of house. He rather acted as a father."

"And you have a problem with it, because he is your godfather and now he is spending more time with Potter than with you." Marcus guessed, lowering his head to one side.

"No." Draco said, smiling. "Surely not. I think, somehow Severus looked happy. And if Potter is the reason, then be it. I do not lose him because he likes Potter too. Even if he would take Potter in permanently I would not lose Severus. He is my godfather. In the contrary, with Potter there, I had a reason to visit him more often."

"You know, it might come true, Draco." Theodore said. "Professor Snape officially has guardianship over Potter now. It might come true that he takes Potter in permanently."

"As I said, I don't have a problem with that." Draco nodded. "I just wondered if I could be right. That he somehow looked happy, I mean. And the moment when Potter – Harry, damn, he is one of us and we can call him by his given name. However, the moment Harry hadn't been breathing, I really thought Severus might panic for a moment."

Marcus nodded. "I have heard it, in the great hall. And that proves a lot." He said. "Severus isn't one who panics easily. He never would show his feelings so openly and so plainly." He huffed for a moment. "When there is someone who displays his indifferent mask perfectly, then it is Severus. And to lose his mask in front of the students, and in front of the Gryffindors no less, then that is all the prove you need to know that he not only cares for Harry, but that he might be feeling like a father."

"Well, that makes you brothers then, kind of." Theodore said. "And I think Potter – Harry – can be lucky. Professor Snape surely will be a great father. He does a lot for all the students and surely he will do all he can to help Harry."

"I'm sure of that." Draco answered. "I just don't understand why the other students hate him so much."

"Well, he's a Slytherin." Marcus answered. "And he is on our side. He's quick with giving detention, but the other students never see that he always tries to get as much background information on the students as possible before he sets one. Even with the students from other houses he never would set an inappropriate detention. Do you know what he did with Macmillan?"

Draco and Theodore shook their heads, watching him questioningly.

"Well." Marcus began. "Macmillan had troubles with grammar. And Severus actually gave him a detention after he got his cauldron melted in which he assigned him to write down an essay. And different parts of speech in different colours. Verbs, nouns, adjectives and articles, all in different colours. Imagine, the dark dungeon bat as the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs call him, teaching a Hufflepuff grammar using colours. And just yesterday he'd had Patil in detention, and he didn't let her scrub cauldrons but talked to her the entire time because she felt homesick. He had known that she hadn't been able to concentrate because she was thinking at her parents and so he talked to her, told her to write them."

"As he had done with Tracy." Theodore murmured, remembering his own conversation he'd had with the Potions Master.

"Yes." Marcus confirmed. "He might appear harsh sometimes. But whatever he does, he does it to help us. And not only us Slytherins but the students from the other houses as well."

"And why don't they see it then?" Draco growled.

"Because he takes more points from them than he takes from us. And because he gives them detentions openly. But they don't see that he punishes us as well, that he just does so in privacy. And because he handles us kinder than the students from the other houses. And that for they say he is unfair. But they don't see that he's doing so, because no other teacher stands up for us."

"However, did you hear what the others said in the great hall?" Theodore asked and Draco nodded, growling.

"Yes, I heard." Marcus said, huffing in annoyance. "They actually said Severus has lost his mind."

"Idiots!" Draco murmured, shaking his head.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

In the staff room at the same time Rolanda Hooch was sitting at the table, her face calm and thoughtful. It was a first occasion that Severus went against her.

He had been venting angrily against some of the teachers in the past, of course, but never before against her. There were just a few teachers actually he disliked or didn't respect. And she didn't belong into this category. They always had gone along quite well. So – what had happened to the man?

She knew that he often missed the first two or three weeks at the beginning of a term. No one knew what he did then. He definitely was at the castle then, she had seen him during such times. But neither did he teach – aside from the new first years – nor did he attend meals in the great hall. He just was present at the staff meetings then.

But this year it was already five weeks the Potions Master was absent from classes and the staff table. Five weeks, that was quite a lot of time.

And then his strange behaviour today at all.

Of course Rolanda knew that Severus was a teacher that – contrary to common believe – cared for his students, for all of them, but normally Severus nevertheless always kept his calm mask and posture. Nevertheless he never would allow himself to lose control over himself. But he had done so today.

When the man had been running towards Potter, she had seen his face.

And it had been a mask of horror, fear had been visible in his face. And there had been no sarcastic comment but nearly scared words. He definitely had not been just worried, Rolanda was sure of this. There was more. He actually had been afraid that Potter might have been seriously injured or even dead.

What led her to the question, why was Potter excused from classes in the first place?

Well, ok – the boy looked a bit small and fragile, she had to admit. But he definitely looked like he could be a seeker. He was small, he was light, he would be perfect in this position.

And Merlin, she had seen him flying. He easily had chased after Longbottom, and when he had dived, then her heart nearly had stopped for a moment. But he not only had managed to manoeuvre his broom – wherefrom he had gotten it was a riddle to her, still – perfectly underneath the falling Longbottom, but he had caught the boy too, after Severus had cast the levitating spell. The boy had been raised by muggles, as far as she knew, and he never before had seen a broom. And as Poppy had excused him from classes, he surely was ill and thus had not been able to sit on a broom since he was here at Hogwarts. She would have known anyway if one of the school brooms would have been borrowed.

Yet – he had not been swaying on the broom as most of the first years did, even those who were raised in wizarding families. No. he had handled the broom as if he had done so his entire life. He surely was a natural and she wouldn't wonder if the boy would end up playing seeker for the Slytherin team.

If Severus would allow it, that was.

She had seen how protective Severus was over the boy today. And as the boy was small and fragile, maybe Severus wouldn't allow him to play seeker, not anytime soon at least.

Well, she would see …

The door silently opened and Filius entered the staff room, his face serious and he seemed to be lost in thought.

"Good evening, Filius." Rolanda said, smiling at the Charms Teacher.

"Oh." Filius nearly was startled when Rolanda addressed him and she frowned at him. Today everyone seemed to be – abroad somehow. "Good evening." The Ravenclaw Head of house replied.

"What is wrong, Filius?" Rolanda asked, watching him curiously.

"Nothing, Rolanda." The smaller teacher answered, hopping onto one of the chairs. "Nothing. I just wondered about young Mr. Potter."

"Yes, the boy had quite a fright today." Rolanda answered. "I was thinking about him too. And about Severus as well. He acted strange today."

"I can imagine." Filius nodded his head. "I heard what happened from some of my students. Of course they exaggerate in their story, telling Severus had cried. Some even said he carried a dead Harry Potter away. You know what it is with the rumours going through the castle. What is told in the end is far from that what actually happened. Nevertheless – I can't help wondering …"

"Well, I can assure you, Severus didn't cry. I was there after all." Rolanda confirmed, nearly laughing at the thought. "But he definitely was more than just worried. He really acted strange."

"Yes." Filius sighed. "If it is like the interaction between the two of them I have observed a few days earlier, then Severus really had acted strange. And I am sure it had been alike to what I have watched."

"Interaction between the two of them?" Rolanda asked, her head lowered to one side. "Between Potter and Severus you mean?"

"Yes." The Charms Teacher said. "Didn't you know that Severus is about to adopt young Mr. Potter?"

Rolanda gasped and then blinked at the other professor. "You're kidding, Filius." She demanded to know.

"No, I'm quite serious." Filius smiled at the Flying Instructor. "Currently Mr. Potter is living down in Severus' quarters in his guest chamber until he has recovered and is fit to go back to his dormitory and to classes. But Severus actually is about to adopt the boy. He already has sent the papers to the ministry. And we already have planned out what wards we will set around his manor."

"So, that is not a joke?" Rolanda shook her head, her hawk-like eyes growing even wider and Filius nearly laughed out aloud.

"No, it isn't." He said. "But I can understand your reaction, Rolanda, as I had been as shocked as you are now when I learned of our scary Potions Master adopting a first year student."

Rolanda was silent for a few moments, taking in the news and matching them with what she already knew,

"So, as Potter was with muggle relatives during the years, and Severus now is going to adopt him, and as Potter is excused from classes by Poppy, well, then I guess he has been abused by them." She simply stated and she growled darkly as Filius nodded his head.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_The chapter I have announced last week: Severus uses a figure of speech towards Harry without thinking and Harry reacts on it, trying to run away …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you


	25. you will be the death of me

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

However, in this chapter I actually state that Harry uses the sign 'sir' in order to address Severus. Yet, there are no well-established signs for 'sir' or 'ma'am' in ASL (American Sign Language) and some give the advise to use either the names of the persons or the signs for 'woman' or 'man' as in 'yes woman' or 'yes man', even if this too is not standard.

Yet – let me just suggest, in this created little fantasy, there might be a word for 'sir' or 'ma'am', just so to simplify things.

Actually I have used a lot of words already that do not really exist, but I just needed them to exist. It wasn't a problem up to now as I always used them in the dialogues only. But as I definitely state the word 'sir' being used in this chapter, I feel the need to explain that I just made it up.

**Added Note:**

.oO( … yes … it still is there … )

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question and scrutinize every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Rolanda was silent for a few moments, taking in the news and matching them with what she already knew,_

_"So, as Potter was with muggle relatives during the years, and Severus now is going to adopt him, and as Potter is excused from classes by Poppy, well, then I guess he has been abused by them." She simply stated and she growled darkly as Filius nodded his head._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter twenty-five**

**You will be the death of me**

"You have to learn, Harry." Severus said, placing the two mugs of tea on the coffee table. One in front of the boy, and the other one in front of himself. "You have to learn how to ask for what you need. I understand that you never have had the chance to learn asking for help as you never had someone you could trust and rely on. But you nevertheless have to learn how to ask for help. It is a difficult thing to learn, I know this by myself, but it is necessary."

Harry didn't give him an answer, he just lowered his head and his gaze was fixed onto his hands.

"Listen, child." Severus leaned over and gently placed his fingers under Harry's chin, lifting the small face. "If you had told me about Longbottom, struggling to stay on his broom, I simply would have cast a spell on him that would have prevented him from falling and you would not have placed yourself in danger of breaking your neck. And if you would have told me about your fears, concerning your studies in mind-magic, then we could have talked about it earlier and you would have saved yourself a few days of headaches and tremors. Do you see what I mean, child?"

Harry finally nodded.

"Yes, sir." The boy signed. "But I only would bother you. And I don't want to be a bother. You wouldn't want me anymore then."

"Oh, child!" Severus sighed, shaking his head. "You do know, one day, you really will be the death of me." He said, closing his eyes for a moment. How could one child be as insecure as Harry was?

Harry went rigid as soon as the Professor had said those words and for a moment he even held his breath before he began to shake his head, his eyes wide and his hands grasping the shirt over his chest, as if by grasping the fabric and pulling on it he would be able to breathe easier. A rough, softly whispered "no" escaped his lips, causing the Professor to reopen his eyes at once.

Severus opened his eyes and looked over at Harry. Had he heard correctly? Had the boy just spoken?

But the next moment he thought his heart might skip a beat. Harry's entire body had begun shaking, rather violently and he clutched at the front of his shirt as if the shirt itself would keep him from breathing. And the word itself, this small word 'no' – if he had heard correctly – it had sounded so desperately and not for the first time he wondered what was going through this child's head.

Merely a moment had passed when Harry finally jumped up and ran from the living area and into his room, leaving a confused Potions Master behind.

It took Severus a moment to get back control over his shock and he got up from the armchair he had been sitting in, went over to Harry's room and opened the door after he softly knocked. He just could imagine in what kind of stress the boy might be if he once again had overcome his own boundaries to whisper this small word in such a horrified kind of voice.

Memories came back to him, memories of a broken boy, kneeling in front of him on the floor in the hospital wing, uttering a rough and barely recognizable 'please', folding his hands as if in a desperate prayer and Severus' worries increased to a level where he thought his heart might stop beating at any moment and hurriedly he stepped inside the nursery.

"Harry?" He asked in a soft voice and the boy turned towards him, his eyes wide and his face pale, a fine film of perspiration covering his forehead. Severus quickly stepped closer, just to have Harry taking a quick step backwards and he stopped.

The boy was dressed in his old clothes and clutching a bundle to his chest that Severus easily could recognize as the old spare Jeans, the old and overlarge sweater, and the old spare T-shirt the boy had brought with him to Hogwarts.

"What are you doing, Harry?" Severus asked, immediately recognizing the situation and with a quick flick of his wand he locked the entrance door to his chambers. He would allow the boy to leave his room, but not his chambers. Not in the state he was in just now. "What is wrong, Harry?" He asked.

The boy signed something that wasn't recognizable with the bundle of clothes he held in his arms and Severus shook his head.

"If you lay them aside, Harry, then I can understand what you want to say." The Potions Master said calmly, his voice low and gentle. Yet – he felt anything else than calm at the moment.

Harry really placed the bundle at the table beside him, tears welling up in his eyes.

"I have to leave." He signed, the fight to continue breathing visible. "I have to go."

"Whatever reason for, child?" Severus asked, watching the boy close, his mind racing.

"I just have to go." Harry repeated. "I don't want you to die."

Wouldn't the situation be so grave, then Severus would have laughed out loud. But the situation _was_ grave and so he restrained himself from doing so. He would hurt the boy badly if he would laugh now. Instead he sighed and took another step towards the boy.

"Harry." He began. "That was a figure of speech. Of course I will not die."

"You lie!" Harry signed, rather forcefully, as if screaming if he would have used his voice, but immediately he recognized what he had accused his teacher of and his trembling increased. He took another step back until his back hit the wall and he felt the terror wash over him in waves. He really was in trouble now. But the Professor had lied to him. His parents had died. And it had been his fault.

"Easy, child." Severus said in a low and gentle tone of voice. He nearly bodily could feel the terror Harry radiated after he had signed 'you lie'. And he knew that Harry feared to be punished for it. "Calm down. You are not in trouble and no punishment will take place. Just calm down and tell me what is wrong."

But he got no answer from Harry who just watched him with his fearful wide eyes.

Steeling himself for Harry's reaction he took a few steps towards the boy, ignoring the flinch he knew would come, ignoring the low and startled scream he knew Harry would give away and he knelt down in front of the boy, still out of arms length.

"Come here, Harry." He gently demanded. For a long time, for nearly two minutes nothing happened and slowly Severus lifted one hand, his palm turned upwards to show the boy it wasn't his intention to harm him.

"Come here, child." He repeated softly. "Please."

He was satisfied when Harry finally responded to his body language and the boy slowly left the wall in his back and took a tentative step towards him.

Severus still didn't move, he just waited for Harry to come closer on his own accord. He was still crouched at Harry's eye level, his face calm and his right hand inviting the boy to come closer. Slowly the boy took another step, watching him unsurely, his green eyes searching his dark ones and the Potions Master nodded encouragingly. The boy already was standing directly in front of him, nearly touching him, but still Severus made no move to do anything but give the boy a slight nod of his head.

Another half a step and finally the child was leaning sideways against his chest, touching him barely. Nevertheless he could feel the small body tremble and just then he slowly wrapped one arm around the boy, pulling the child closer to his chest, placing one hand onto the child's clammy forehead.

"Let me in, Harry." He softly begged. "Allow me to see what exactly is troubling you so, child. Please."

For a moment nothing happened, but then Harry closed his eyes and with a barely visible nod he shivered.

He didn't want the Professor always seeing his memories and he didn't want the Professor always being in his mind. It was just unnerving. But even if the man _didn't_ do this mind-thing he always knew exactly what he thought, or wanted to do, somehow. And this was just … it was strange. Sometimes it was as if he would read his mind, as if he would look into his soul and that sometimes sent goose-bumps over his skin.

He just couldn't keep a secret from the Professor, from his guardian.

Severus, recognizing the small nod, but at the same time feeling the frustration the boy radiated at his ability to enter his mind, smiled. Yes, he guessed it was a bit annoying to have a guardian who could do such a thing.

Probing gently against the boy's mind he slowly entered and shifted through the child's memories, ignoring what memories were lay bare now for him until he found what he was searching for, freshly awakened and in the forefront of the boy's awareness.

_Harry was sitting on the floor in a corner of the kitchen at Privet Drive, his knees drawn to his chest and his arms half hugging his knees towards him, half covering his head. The boy couldn't be older than four of five, even with the knowledge that he was small for his age, Severus was sure that he couldn't be older than five. Petunia stood in front of him, a nasty sneer on her face, watching the boy as if he was an extremely ugly insect that dared to sit on her kitchen floor._

_"You deserve none of our food, you freak!" She shrieked in a high pitched voice towards the boy. "You! It is your own fault. Who could ever care for you? Even your parents hated you so much they rather died to get rid of you. You have killed them! You have killed my sister! And you will be the death of us too. You will kill us too. I know it."_

Severus slowly retreated from the boy's mind as the memory faded before he would lose control over his anger he tried to conceal so he wouldn't frighten the boy while he was lingering in his mind.

"She lied, Harry." Severus whispered, running his hand up and down the still too thin spine, trying to ease the child's trembling, his fears, and his insecure.

"I did know your parents, Harry." He continued, his voice soft and gentle. "I did not get along well with your father, I have to admit. But I know that he loved you. And I know for sure that your mother loved you deeply. They died to protect you. They gave their lives in order to keep you safe and they were killed by an evil wizard. You – you are not to blame for their deaths. Do you understand?"

Well, it was not entirely correct.

He knew that James never really had loved Harry, but surely he would not tell him this. The boy was insecure enough without this bit of information. But he – Severus – knew it.

James Potter had accepted the boy in his life, but neither had he accepted him as his son, nor had he ever loved him. Harry had been there, he had been present, but nothing more. Just like Lily had been there, had been present, and he doubted that James Potter ever really had loved her too.

He had wanted her because he, Severus, had wanted her.

He had wanted her as a trophy, as nothing more. And as soon as he'd had her, he had forgotten about her like one forgot about a trophy in a shelf. And just as a trophy in a shelf got dusty, Lily soon had lost her smile, had lost her fire, she had become a sad and silent woman, often crying.

On their wedding night Potter had been sleeping on the couch after the party with Black and Pettigrew, and the evening after he had been out with the mutt while Lily had been sitting at home. And this had been the normal way of things until the day of Lily's death.

James Potter coming home from work, eating something Lily had prepared for him, and then leaving to visit Black, or going out with the mutt.

The day Harry had been born James had been on a party with the mutt and he – Severus – he had been with Lily when the boy had been born. It should have been James, but he – Severus – he had been there to assist at the birth, to keep Lily calm and to encourage her, to comfort her as good as possible, he had been there when Harry had drawn his first breath, he had been there when the small child had uttered his first tiny cry, he had been there when Harry had opened his eyes for the first time, he had bathed the small child and he still remembered the fear of accidentally breaking the tiny body that had fit laying onto one of his forearms, clinging to his arm, the fear that he accidentally could break the small limbs and the tiny fingers when he had wrapped the bundle into a blanket, and he – not James – he had given the small bundle into Lily's arms, feeling as if the world had stopped moving, feeling joy and pain and overwhelming love for the woman and the child, feeling that nothing else mattered in this world now aside from those two persons.

He still remembered Potter coming home the day after Harry's birth, he still had been there with Lily, comforting her, watching over her and the newborn child, and the only thing Potter had done was glowering at him, when he told him that he had become a father, that he had a son now.

He had not even looked at the child, nor had he looked at his wife. He had growled at him, and then he had turned and left. He had been gone for three days while he, Severus, had stayed with Lily, not wanting to leave her and the newborn child alone.

Remembering this day, remembering what he had felt on this very day, in this very moment when he had seen Harry for the first time, had held him for the first time, remembering this day his eyes softened when he now looked at the child that was as helpless as the infant had been, eleven years older now, but still as fragile as the infant had been.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The now sobbing boy nodded against his chest and Severus was satisfied, even if he knew that the boy didn't really believe his words. He would work on this as he would work on so many things concerning the boy.

"Suffice to say is, I know your aunt, as she was your mother's sister and that for of course I met her at one point or another - regrettably." The Potions Master continued. "And I know for sure that never anything else but stupidity ever came out of her mouth. She lied to you, and I guess you know this. I guess it wasn't the first time that she did."

"You know my aunt?" The boy signed, gazing at him with unsure eyes.

"Yes, I do." Severus said, knowing that the boy must be feeling uncomfortable, knowing that he – Severus – knew the person who had abused him during years. "Yes, I do know her, and I can assure you, that she always had been a nasty woman."

"But … but … if you know her … then …" The boy stopped, averting his gaze.

"Then what, child?" Severus asked.

"Then … then … did you know … I'm sorry …"

Severus sighed. He knew what the boy wanted to ask.

"Yes, I know your aunt. But as she always was a nasty woman, I never had much of a contact to her. And after your mother died, the contact broke completely. Back then, I was glad that I didn't have to see her anymore. But in the new light of events, considering what she did to you over the years, I wish I had not lost the contact." Severus watched the boy with his dark eyes, his gaze a sad one now. "Because, if I had not lost the contact to her, then I would have known about you. And then I would have been able to prevent it, or maybe to get you out of there earlier. But I did not know about the abuse you had to endure at her hands and at the hands of her husband. And for that I am sorry, child."

"I'm sorry I asked." Harry signed and Severus shook his head immediately.

"You had every right to ask this question, Harry." He said. "It was a reasonable question and everyone would have come to the same conclusion. I am glad you did ask instead of shutting this question away inside of you. You would have gained nothing out of it instead of further mistrust."

"I'm sorry for saying you lied." Came the next signs.

"I did not feel offended by your accusation." Severus answered. "I already told you, you are not in trouble and no punishment will be held because of it. You just were worried about something I said without thinking and you just reacted out of your worries. I did not take it as disrespect towards me."

"But I should not have … have … gone off against you."

Severus took both of Harry's shoulders in his hands and held him at arms length so he could see the boy's face. It was clear that Harry _wanted_ to feel guilty right now.

"Listen to me, Harry." Severus said seriously. "This, is your home, child. And this is, where you can 'go off' as you so eloquently put it. Here it is where you can be just yourself and here it is where you can allow yourself to be a child. Out there, you may wear your mask behind which you are hiding whatever you want to hide. But here, in these chambers, here is your home and here you can act according to what you feel."

Harry didn't answer to that. He just stiffened under his hands, watching him with large eyes and for a moment the small body shivered before he dropped his gaze.

For a moment Severus thought Harry would say something against it, but nothing came and he sighed again. He knew that Harry didn't believe him, that he didn't allow himself to believe, because he knew it would hurt just the more if he believed and then was disappointed. And he had been disappointed often enough in his young life to know that it could happen at every time.

Well, he wouldn't tell the boy that he had filed out the adoption papers a few days earlier. That he meant it seriously, that he would not disappoint him. He would wait until the right time came. And hopefully he would have the papers back until then.

It annoyed him to no end, having to wait until he got the papers back. He had gotten the written acknowledgement of receipt from the ministry the day after he had sent the papers. But he hadn't heard anything else from them yet.

Well, he knew that it was too soon. Yet – he was nervous nevertheless and he just would be relieved as soon as he finally would have the signed papers in his hands, as soon as they could perform the adoption itself and Harry finally and officially would be his.

"What concerns me much more, Harry, is the fact that you was ready to leave in order to keep me safe." Severus said, his voice very serious now and his dark eyes piercing the boy he had in front of him. "I can understand that you acted out of concern because you believed a wording I chose without thinking. But first, I surely will not die, I can promise you that much. The wording I chose is a wording that adults often use when they reach the end of their ropes. It doesn't mean anything. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Like when you say the students are driving you up the wall?" Harry carefully asked, his eyes hopefully at his professor, nearly begging him to say yes, because he wouldn't be able to stand it if he was wrong.

If he was right, then he would know what the man meant, that it only had been a figure of speech. But if he was wrong, then he didn't know if Professor Snape was right and really wouldn't die. And he didn't want the man to die. He needed the man. He wanted the man.

The Professor was so reserved sometimes, nearly cold – and hard at times, but that was ok, because he didn't press him too much with his closeness when he needed space. Professor Snape also was a really, really stern and severe man, but that was ok too, because he always knew that he would know what would come, because the Professor never lied to him, he always did what he said. And thus he – he hoped at least – would not do what he said he would not do.

Professor Snape always knew what was wrong, and what he had in mind. And he never let it slip, he always addressed it, he always was demanding, trying to get him - Harry - to step up towards his own limits. But that also was ok, because he could feel safe and trust the man, could rely on him, even if he himself didn't know what to do anymore. Even if he himself had reached the end of his rope.

In other words, the Professor was not a man that was round, he was angular and he didn't fit into a stencil. But he was a calm man, never screaming at him, never losing his temper and never threatening him. And this calmness, he needed this calmness.

Severus nodded, smiling at the boy in front of him.

"That is correct, Harry. It is a figure of speech." He said. "Surely no human being would be able to go up the walls. Never mind how annoying the students are. It just is not possible, not even with magic. And the same it is with the figure of speech I used earlier. Surely I would not die just because you are disobedient and cause me to worry about you."

Again the boy nodded but his eyes still were cast towards the ground and Severus didn't know if he really believed him, or if he didn't allow himself to believe. He knew how much the boy needed him. Of course he knew. The boy had had no one besides of him and he still wasn't up to partake in the all-day life of the castle. Of course he, as the first person who ever had shown kindness and assistance towards Harry, was important for the boy.

But he didn't understand that the boy really had been ready to leave him, to go, just to safe him. He didn't understand how he could be _that_ important for the boy. Once more he shook his head, trying to concentrate onto the situation at hand. He would be able to wonder about that later.

"Second, it is not your point to worry about me in the first place. You are a child, Harry, and you cannot be responsible for everything that happens. You have to be able to relay onto us adults. That it is what I meant when I said you have to learn to ask for help. I am the one in charge of worrying over you, not the other way round. You might be worried, but my safety is not your responsibility. But _your _safety is _my _responsibility. You are the child, and I am the adult. Do you understand what I mean?"

A nod was the answer and Severus was satisfied, even if Harry didn't give an explanation as to what he thought about it. He knew that the boy understood what he meant. But he also knew that the boy also would act the same way next time he would be worried. And again the question bothered him how this boy could rely on him so much, how this boy could deem him so important that he would leave the safety of his quarters to keep him safe.

"So, can we go back to our tea now, young man?" Severus asked, his eyebrow lifted.

Harry nodded, giving away another "I'm sorry" that Severus tried to ignore as good as possible, just hoping that some day the boy would stop apologizing for everything that wasn't his fault.

"And you won't try and run away again?" Severus asked, watching the boy close.

Another "I'm sorry" came with a headshake and a guilty look. But then Harry lifted his head and looked at him.

"Yes?" Severus asked quietly, encouraging the boy to ask the question that apparently lay on his hands.

But then Harry shook his head and gazed back towards the floor.

"What is it, child?" The Potions Master asked. "You might address what you want to ask or say, Harry. Do not step back just because you fear the answer. If there is something that you need to know or to say, then address it."

But Harry shook his head.

"It's stupid." He signed.

"Maybe it isn't as stupid as you think, Harry." Severus answered. "You already have proven the ability of asking intelligent questions, even if _you_ deem them stupid."

"But this one is, because you are my teacher." The boy signed, his cheeks colouring with embarrassment and the Potions Master shook his head.

"I am not only your teacher, Harry." He sternly said. "If my memory serves me right, then I am your guardian as well, and you should feel confident enough in my presence to address whatever it is that is on this stubborn mind of yours."

Again a few moments nothing happened and Harry didn't look at him.

"It is …" He then began, his hands moving unsurely. "It is just … you are … I don't want … I …" The boy actually squirmed while trying to find the right words. "I don't know, sir … you are … I mean … it just … I don't know …"

"I am sure you do know what it is you want to say, Harry." Severus said. "You just do not know how to say it or how to say it in my presence. Maybe you are able to write those words down?"

Harry nearly looked relieved and he nodded, allowed himself to be led back into the living area by the Professor's hand on his shoulder.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"I have another topic I wished to address, Harry." Severus began and the seriousness in his voice caused Harry to look up at him anxiously.

"There is no need to worry, child." Severus said as he noticed the anxious look on Harry's face. "I merely wondered about a few things. You got one fir needle from Professor McGonagall. And this needle I confiscated. Yet – you somehow managed to have a second one to practice with, obviously out of no where, and I wonder how you got hold of it."

"I didn't steal it." The boy immediately signed, fear and shock edged into the small face that looked at him with large green eyes.

"I do know that you didn't." Severus immediately reassured the child in front of him. "And that was not what I had in mind either. Yet – you had another fir needle nonetheless and I just wondered how you got hold of it."

"I don't know." Harry signed, guilt written all over his face and he lowered his eyes back onto the teacup he now took into his hands to take a sip.

Severus placed his fingers under Harry's chin and lifted the small face.

"I didn't mean it as a criticism, child." He said. "I merely want to know how you got hold of it as I do not store a lot of fir needles in my chambers. I have some in my laboratory, but …"

"I really didn't steel it, sir. Honestly, I … I …" Came the answer and the Potions Master had a nearly crying eleven year old boy sitting in front of him. It was clear Harry was more than just upset.

"Easy, child." He immediately said. "I already told you, I didn't imply this. I do know that you did not steel it. I have warded my potions laboratory and I have done so for a reason. There are dangerous ingredients down there that could kill you by just smelling at them and thus they have to be locked away. I just wondered if – just maybe – you might have been able to somehow conjure the fir needle, or to transfigure something else into one."

"But I didn't …" Harry again began, but then, understanding what the Potions Master wanted to say, he stopped and blinked at him. "I don't know, sir." He shook his head.

"Sometimes we do things without actually knowing how we do them, or why." Severus said. "Especially children. It might have been accidental magic and thus …"

Harry immediately went rigid and he shook his head, remembering what the punishment for accidental magic meant while living with his relatives. Of course he now knew that magic existed, that the things that happened at Privet Drive had not been his fault. And he also knew that he wouldn't be punished for doing magic here at Hogwarts, neither for intended magic nor for accidental magic. He knew that it was required of him.

Nevertheless – alone the thought of it made him ill. He just couldn't forget what his uncle would do if he ever found out. And somehow … somehow …

"Listen, Harry." Severus sighed, leaning forwards in his armchair to have a closer look at the boy. "I do know that you have been punished for accidental magic in the past. But that will not be the case here. You are here in order to learn how to use your magic. You are a wizard as much as all the other students here at Hogwarts and doing magic is required of you. What I want to say is, maybe you have been able to do what you wanted to do, to use mind-magic, to use none-verbal spells, to conjure a fir needle or to transfigure something into one. Unintentionally."

"But I don't know how." Harry signed, still unsure. "I just needed it so I could practice, and then it was there."

Severus nodded, a barely visible smile on his face.

"I thought as much." He said. "Well, and the same question comes to my mind concerning the broom you was riding yesterday."

Again the guilt washed over the young face and again Severus shook his head.

"We are past this, Mr. Potter." He said. "You had to answer your actions yesterday evening while being in your room and I will not hold it against you further. I merely am interested as to how you got hold of a broom as I do not own brooms and Madam Hooch only had out the required number of brooms for her flying lessons with the first year students that were present."

"I don't know." Harry again repeated.

He was sure that somehow he was in trouble. Conjuring something small like a fir needle maybe wasn't such a big deal, but conjuring something big like a broom surely was forbidden, was a bad thing and he shouldn't have done so. Neither transfiguring something into it. However he had done it, he didn't know it.

"I guess you really do not know it, Harry." Severus nodded. "But we have to know how you managed it anyway. Just answer me a few questions and I am sure we will sort this out."

Harry nodded and Severus leaned back, watching him with thoughtful dark eyes. The boy looked as if he would go ill at every moment.

"You are not in trouble, Harry." He immediately confirmed. "I just want to know how you did it. For – if you used non-verbal magic unintentionally, then we can build on this ability so you can use it knowingly as well."

"But I don't know how I did it." Harry signed in small movements.

"Just answer me a few questions, and I am sure we can figure it out. For example, is something amiss in your room? Maybe you used something to unintentionally transfigure it into the fir needle."

Harry thought for a moment, but then he slowly shook his head.

"I don't know, sir." He signed. "I do not have anything I could have … have … have made the needle with."

Severus nodded. It was true, the boy really didn't have anything. He'd had one set of spare clothing besides of those he had worn when coming to Hogwarts and he had his school supplies and a teddy bear, but nothing else.

"Maybe we just take the fir needle I took from you and we see what will happen if we simply try to transfigure it back into what it originally had been. It either will become the object it had been before being transfigured, or it will vanish, depending on how you got hold on it."

Harry nodded, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach and somehow he hoped it simply would vanish. Because if it wouldn't, and it would be transfigured back into something, then surely it had been steeling? Somehow? For he hadn't had anything to use. And thus it surely would have been something that belonged to the Professor. He really felt ill now.

Severus took the fir needle from a pocket of his robes, placed it onto the table and tapped it with his wand. A moment later a book lay there on the coffee table and he smiled. It was the book he had been reading when he was in Harry's room while the boy slept.

"There we are." Severus said. "Potions through the ages."

"I didn't mean to … I … I'm sorry." Harry signed and Severus knew what was going through the boy's head.

"I know you didn't meant to, Harry." He said. "And it isn't stealing, do not worry about _this_. You needed something to become the object of your studies and – correct me, if I am wrong – but by looking around the room and finding the book laying at the table it simply became the object you needed."

"But I didn't see it change." Harry looked desperate. "And I didn't want it to change."

"I guess you actually _did_ want it to change." Severus said. "Only not knowingly and you are not in trouble because of it. Fact is, you did what you so hard tried to achieve. You used non-verbal magic to transfigure an object into another object you needed to practice a non-verbal transfiguration spell. Quite ironic, I might say. Maybe you want to try it again?"

Harry took out his wand, slowly, hesitantly, and he first cast an unsure, questioning gaze at the Potions Master who just nodded at him encouragingly before he actually tried to get the book back into the fir needle.

Nothing happened and after a few tries Severus placed his hand onto the boy's arm, causing him to yet flinch again and he gritted his teeth.

"Stop it." He said, forcing himself to ignore the child's reaction. "You are still not well enough to do this kind of magic. I just wanted you to try."

"But …"

"There are no buts, Mr. Potter." Severus interrupted Harry sternly. "I didn't believe you would achieve it anyway. I just wanted to make sure. There is a difference between doing something unintentionally with success and doing something intentionally."

Harry nodded and Severus leaned back, regarding the boy with a calculating gaze.

"Maybe we concentrate onto the broom." The Potions Master wanted to know. "How did you manage to get hold of the broom?"

"I don't know." Harry shook his head. If the small fir needle had been a book, then what had he transfigured in order to get a broom? Surely it was something really big? And important? And …

"Stop worrying, Harry." Severus sighed. "You are not in trouble. Accidental magic is not to be punished. Not here in the wizarding world. I just want to know how it happened."

"But I don't know." The boy again shook his head.

"I know that you do not know, Harry." The older wizard said. "It is normal for unintentional magic to not know how it happened. Otherwise it would be intentional magic. We just have to think about it."

"I don't know." The boy repeated desperately. "I just have seen the boy and then I knew that he would fall and then I knew I needed a broom and then … and then … then …"

"Did you look around, Harry?" Severus tried to help out.

"Yes." The boy confirmed desperately. "But there was nothing. Really."

Severus watched Harry with a thoughtful gaze. Maybe Harry really had found nothing that he could have transfigured into the needed broom. There wasn't much in the back yard he actually could have used. But it would have been possible.

But maybe the boy really had found nothing and had simply conjured the broom somehow. Both possibilities showed Harry's potential. As had the boy's ability to block him using legillimens, if he didn't want him to, like he had done the first time back in his office.

This boy really was a phenomenon somehow.

On one hand, he had survived ten years of a living hell with the Dursleys, on the other hand, he was as fragile and as delicate as the infant he had been eleven years ago and he wondered how in Merlin's name he had managed to survive there in the first place.

The boy never had learned what it meant to be loved, what it meant to feel save. Normal human interactions were strange to him and even frightened him. Yet Harry was able to accept the human contact he offered and he was able to feel safe in his presence. He was ready to display something that definitely was affection. He wouldn't go as far as calling it love. But definitely affection. He – Severus – definitely had become a very important person for the child.

The Potions Master huffed. He! Important for a child! Important for a student! That was ridiculous!

And nevertheless he had to admit that the boy was clinging to him, clinging to him as desperately as onto a lifeline.

He knew Harry never asked about anything, he tried to be as silent and as invisible as possible, tried to hide whatever pain or fear he felt to avoid being a bother. He tried to act like an adult instead of as the child he was, just to avoid causing problems and trouble.

Yet, he also knew that if he woke the boy from his sleep, he would get a very frightened and scared child who instantly would be apologizing for some mistakes he thought he might have done, just to be safe. And he knew that if he lifted the boy's blanket tonight when Harry slept, then he would find the small teddy bear he had laid on the boy's pillow a few weeks earlier, cradled tightly in the boy's arms, hidden, but still there.

**Flashback**

_Snape leaned against the wooden doorframe before he entered Harry's room, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his dark eyes watching the boy, wondering for a moment when this room had become Harry's room, wondering when Potter had become Harry in the first place. _

_He had sent the boy to bed fifteen minutes earlier with the explicit order to put himself __**into **__the bed instead of laying onto the floor beside the furniture and now he was about to have a last look at the brat as he did every evening since last week._

_The boy sat on his bed, his back halfway towards the door and he stared at the teddy bear that was laying on his pillow._

_Well, he didn't know what in Merlin's name had caused him to place the teddy bear there in the first place. Maybe it had been the fact that he hoped Potter would sleep with less nightmares if he had one and he himself thus would be able to have at least one single nights sleep without interruption. Or it simply had been the fact that a child was supposed to have a teddy bear. He knew for sure that nearly every single one of his first and second year students had one, even some of the third years. _

_Well, or maybe it just had been the fact that Potter seemed to own nothing and he somehow wanted to comfort the brat, to give him something._

_Stupid! Snape thought. He was no man who comforted his students. And surely not Potter!_

_The boy still sat there, kneeling on the bed that seemed to be too large for the small boy, eying the teddy bear with startled, fearful and suspicious large eyes, not moving to touch it. It was the same as it had been with the pillow and the blanket. It actually had taken him three days to get the boy to use those without being ordered to._

_He sighed. In other words, it would take him as long to use the stuffed toy as well._

_"This toy won't bite you if you touch it, Mr. Potter." He said from the doorway and he finally entered the room. "And now use the blanket as a cover instead of kneeling on it and lay down. The toy is yours and it is meant to be used."_

_Potter flinched – as usual – at his words but he quickly scrambled off the blanked and underneath it, trying awkwardly to cover himself with the thick fabric and as usual the Potions Master noticed that the boy wasn't used in handling a blanket in the first place as he never had had one. But he didn't use the pillow this time as it was already occupied with the teddy bear._

_Sighing in frustration he went over to the bed and took the teddy bear from the pillow, feeling awkward at holding a stuffed toy but knowing that Potter wouldn't lay down comfortably as long as the dark brown animal lay there. _

_Potter's wary and fearful gaze he had thrown towards the toy changed into a disappointed one for a moment when he took the teddy bear away from the pillow, and Snape quickly had to hide the smile that tucked at his lips with a lifted eyebrow. Well, if the boy felt disappointed by him taking the teddy bear away, then it meant that he indeed wished to have it, never mind how much this thought might frighten him. _

_But then the disappointed look in Potter's face changed into a resigned one and from there into a nearly glad one. As if he was glad that the toy was gone so he wouldn't have to deal with the strange situation or be disappointed later after he had gotten used to it and it was taken away then._

_And nevertheless the disappointment had been there for a moment and Snape had seen it._

_"Place your head where it belongs to, Mr. Potter, onto the pillow." He growled darkly. Yet – it wasn't his usual growl and with a hint of frustration he recognized that he would have to practice it before his next lesson tomorrow afternoon with the Gryffindor and Slytherin first years._

_Of course Potter did at once as he was told, as always, out of fear he would be beaten, punished, and as soon as the boy lay on the bed, his head resting where it belonged to, on the pillow, Snape pressed the teddy bear into the boy's arms and quickly pulled the blanked over the small form, covering a startled child._

_"Good night, Mr. Potter." Snape said, his voice sounding strange and he nearly growled again. "I expect you to take care of this animal during the night."_

**End flashback**

"I guess we won't find an answer to this question yet, as the broom had a mind of its own after you fell and it went off." Severus sighed, shoving this memory into the back of his mind. He had other things at hand just now and again he watched the boy in front of him with a thoughtful gaze. "We won't be able to redo the broom into whatever it had been made off. But I think it isn't necessary either, as you have proven your abilities. We know for sure at least that you transfigured a book into a fir needle, a quite remarkable work as normally only similar things are to be transfigured in the beginning. Like a fir needle into a sewing needle or a stone into a button. To transfigure a book into a fir needle, it is a great work you did and I am sure you will be able to learn those none-verbal spells sooner than later."

Harry's face lit up at this, as if a really heavy stone had been taken off his chest and for a moment the Potions Master felt as if the entire room lit up too. It was the first time that the boy gave such an open sign of joy away and the Potions Master nearly skipped a breath at the sight, of a smiling boy. His entire face changed at that moment and it became even less –

Well, no. it never had been James Potter's face, Severus again noticed. But at this moment …

James Potter's smile had been a smirk, but not a smile.

The smile this boy showed for a moment was a real smile, a soft smile, nearly a happy one. Much like Lily's smile had been.

'_Well, Lily. Here we are.' _Severus thought, having to suppress a smile by himself._ 'I told you I would like to see your son's smile so I would know if he had your smile as well as your eyes. And here we are. It had been a long road for your son, but now I know he has your smile. It is as brilliant as yours had been and he is as able to lit up the room with it as you always have been.' _

Much too quickly the small face was serious again, serious and nearly tense, the ever present wary expression clearly visible and Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts immediately knew that he wanted to see this smile more often.

"You do remember, Mr. Potter, that I once told you I do not mind if you were able to do speechless magic or not. Don't you?" He said, knowing the reason for the smile, and knowing what had caused the smile to vanish again.

The boy nodded, hesitantly.

"Yes, I do, sir." He answered. "But sometimes I'm not sure."

"Not sure about what?" Severus asked, even if he knew the answer already. He just wanted the boy to address it.

"I don't know, sir." Harry nearly curled into himself.

"It might not be easy, Harry, but I want you to nevertheless address what is on your mind." The Potions Master patiently said.

Taking a deep breath, the boy shuddered and for a few moments nothing happened, but Severus could see the fight going on behind the boy's forehead. He nearly could see the wheels turning in the boy's head and the steam rising out of his ears.

"I know that it is stupid." Harry signed, slowly and unsurely at first, but after taking another shuddering breath he continued and with each word it seemed as if the boy finally said what he wanted to tell him since a long time. "It is just that I don't want to lose you, sir … I don't want to go back to my aunt and uncle, but that is not the reason … the reason is that I don't want to lose _you_. I know that you are my teacher and that I should not hope to have you as more than that … but you showed me … a few weeks ago … that you wanted my mother and me as … as a family. You showed me that you … that you … were ready to be … to be my father … I know that this is years ago and I'm not that small child anymore … now I'm a freak and I'm bad … but a few weeks ago you said … you said I should think about it and that I could … that I could talk to you about … about it."

Severus' heart nearly stopped. He wasn't even able to stop the boy when he berated himself of being a freak and of being bad.

The boy really had thought about it, hadn't forgotten about it. And he seemed to want this.

He just had to take a moment to wrap his mind around this very thought but then he took a deep breath and swallowed before he went over to the child and knelt in front of him, taking the small hands into his own, studying them for a moment before he gazed into the frightened green eyes.

"First, it wasn't a stupid question, if it was a question at all." He then said, noticing that his own voice sounded strange. "You have done as I told you and thought about the subject. Second, you are not a freak and you are not bad either, and if you continue accusing yourself like that any further, then you shall find yourself in detention, Mr. Potter. And third, I remember that – just a few minutes ago – I told you, I am already your guardian and not only your teacher. And a few weeks ago, I already told you that I am willing to become more than just your guardian. That I am willing to adopt you and thus making you my son. And I do not intent to back away out of this. In the contrary. You are right in one thing though. You may not be this small child anymore. But you are still a child and you are a child any father could be proud of. You are an eleven year old boy who needs a father just as much as this small child would have needed a father all those years back. It isn't important how old you are. You are a child that is in need of a father, and yes, I am willing to overtake this role."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry wasn't sure what he should think, what he should feel or what he should …

He really wasn't sure at all.

The Professor had told him that he would not back out of this, that he still was ready to adopt him and to start a family with him, to be his father.

But could he really believe this? Could this really be happening to him? Could he really be lucky for once? Should really something good happen to him for once? Would the man really do this? Or would he laugh at him as soon as he believed him and ask him how stupid he was, thinking that anyone could possibly care about him?

He better didn't risk it, he better didn't risk believing the man. He better was on the safe side and didn't get his hopes up just to be let down afterwards. He shouldn't have asked it in the first place, he shouldn't have mentioned it in the first place. It had been stupid of him.

But nevertheless … there was something … within his chest, and within his stomach. Something that felt strange, that made him feel as if ants were crawling through his stomach.

And thus he sat in his bed this evening, the book with the signs in his lap and he flipped through the pages.

Even if the Professor wouldn't do it, he had made his mind up.

Up to now he had addressed Professor Snape with only the signs for 'sir' and 'teacher' as he never found the sign for 'professor'. But it had been enough up to now. But now Professor McGonagall was here twice a week and even if he could address her with 'ma'am', the second sign he could address her with was just the sign for 'teacher' either. And somehow he felt that he needed more. It wasn't enough anymore. Not for him. He needed a personal sign to address Professor Snape directly. Yet – he didn't know how to sign out names.

Quickly he flipped through the pages, searching for ideas and after a few moments he stared at a sign. A sign that he felt was right. A sign that he knew he even could combine with the one for 'teacher' in a way Professor Snape wouldn't recognize it anymore. Because if the man did, then he would be in a lot of trouble.

Well, maybe not in trouble actually, but …

He just knew that the Professor was able to read sign language, and that he surely would recognize this one if he just placed it at the beginning or at the end of the sign for 'teacher'. And he didn't want the Professor to recognize this sign. Just to be on the safe side.

But it was possible. It was possible if he just integrated the sign in the middle part, where the sign for 'teach' went into the sign for 'person'. He just would have to make a small move between. It was possible. And maybe the Professor wouldn't recognize it this way.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_A trip to Diagon Alley and Severus having all hands full to keep Harry safe and sane until they are back home_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter ... thank you


	26. Diagon Alley part one

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would appreciate more responses and thus your honour of my work as I in turn always will honour the feedback you give with answers of my own …

I wasn't sure if I really wanted to update today or anytime soon as I am just tired at the moment, tired in a way that wouldn't be solved with just a good night's sleep. There are just a lot of things going on at the moment and one thing adds to another.

Of course I have a lot of chapters already written beforehand as I am writing every single night, that's my job after all, to write. I'm just not sure if I have the energy to really place them on the site just now. It's just a little frustrating doing so at the moment when I rather feel like hiding from everything and everyone, even if I know that it's stupid. I just can't help how I feel and right now, I have to admit, I wished I had a certain Potions Master to cuddle against … *lol* …

At least I still can joke ... that's something I might say ... *g* ...

**Added Note:**

.oO( … yes … it still is there … )

Well ... I of course know that there are things which are not authentic to the book ...

AND ... I as well know there are things which are logically not possible ...

Yet – on paper, everything is allowed. It is called fantasy, and within fantasy everything is possible ... you just have to use it ...

Do not question and scrutinize every word you read, do just read and try to feel the words ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_He just knew that the Professor was able to read sign language, and that he surely would recognize this one if he just placed it at the beginning or at the end. And he didn't want the Professor to recognize this sign. Just to be on the safe side._

_But it was possible, if he just integrated the sign in the middle part, where the sign for 'teach' went into the sign for 'person'. He just would have to make a small move between. It was possible. And maybe the Professor wouldn't recognize it this way._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter twenty-six**

**Diagon Alley **

"I want you to eat as much as you can during breakfast, Harry." Severus said and Harry curiously lifted his eyes towards him, giving him a questioning gaze.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you yesterday evening, but you have been tired and I decided to let you sleep instead." The Professor explained and Harry immediately got nervous. What could they need to talk about? Had he done something wrong? He racked his brain, trying to come up with some reason as to why Professor Snape could be upset with him, but he couldn't imagine what he had done wrong this time.

Automatically he began apologizing.

"Don't apologize." Severus sighed in annoyance. "You did nothing wrong."

Of course he understood why the boy still apologized at every sentence he said, knowing that he had grown used to apologizing during the past ten years in order to at least try and avoid punishments in form of cruel beatings or at least lessen them. He understood that this fear sat so deeply in the child that he just _couldn't_ act otherwise. It was a simple survival instinct.

Nevertheless, this knowledge and this understanding didn't change the fact that it was – just annoying. He didn't want Harry to apologize every few minutes for the simplest things that were neither the boy's fault nor a reason for apologizing in the first place and it made him just the more angry at the boy's relatives, at his uncle especially.

"I just want to take you to Diagon Alley today." He explained. "You desperately need more clothes. Winter is approaching and you are in need of a few things."

Originally he had planned to ask Madam Malkin to come over to Hogwarts and simply ordering the clothes Harry needed, but then he had changed his mind. Not only did the boy need more than just clothing but he really wanted to get them from Gladrag's as he would get a better quality and added spells there too.

And apart from this, he wanted to know how Harry would react when being off Hogwarts' grounds. He knew that he would have to be careful, that he probably – well, rather surely – would have to deal with a panic attack during their outing. Well – thus he had decided he would go in the early morning hours. Less people would be in Diagon Alley then.

"But … but I do not have money." Harry signed, his face blushed and he dropped his gaze.

"That is not quite correct, Harry." Severus answered. "You _do_ have money. At Gringotts. But that isn't of importance now as you do not have to provide yourself with clothing, school supplies and other things you are in need of. We are already over this conversation."

"I know, you said so, sir." Harry unsurely signed. "But you do not have to pay for me. I don't want to be a burden."

"You are not a burden, Harry." Severus nearly growled. "Your relatives clearly did not provide you with what you needed in the past, with what any child would need, but that was not what should have been standard. As your guardian it is in my responsibility that you are given what you need. And you _do _need clothes. You do need them desperately. And you need a few school supplies as well and a few books on your own rather than the books here that are meant for adults or older students to read and other item like toys."

The startled look on Harry's face told him enough and immediately the boy shook his head, signing that he did not have to buy him extra books and toys.

"In the contrary, Mr. Potter." Severus growled. "I have to and I want to! And I simply want to be certain that you stay warm enough, especially as you are living down here in the dungeons and winter is approaching. You are still not recovered completely. You are still too thin for my liking and thus you easily could catch a cold. I do not want you to become ill. You are a child and meant to have books and toys of your own to use and to learn with. You should have been provided with such in the past, but regrettably that had not been taking place and I do not intent to continue the poor behavior your relatives showed towards you."

Some emotions flickered across the boy's face but it was so quickly gone that Severus couldn't be sure what it had been. Yet – it had looked like something akin to shame and he gritted his teeth. The boy should not feel that way at all. Not to mention the fact that the boy shouldn't be in this position in the first place.

"So, as soon as you have finished your breakfast, I want you to take a shower and then dress with the clothes I have laid out on your bed earlier. And now eat." He said, thus ending the discussion with a stern gaze.

Harry nodded defeated.

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Half an hour later they were on their way through the castle, crossing students that were on their way to their first classes and automatically Harry went closer to the Potions Master, even sneaking his hand up to grasp the larger one of the man to get a small feeling of being safe.

For a moment he scolded himself for his stupidity. It wasn't the first time that he crossed the entrance hall. He had done so a few times during the first two days here at Hogwarts. He had been able to move there by his own, without Professor Snape being there to hold his hand, to lead him, to give him a feeling of safety. So – why was he so afraid then now? He just didn't understand it.

But then – back then he had not known this feeling of safety. Back then the fear he always had felt, he now felt, had been normal. And back then he had been able to hide behind his mask. But now, now that the Professor had shown him what safety felt like, what kindness felt like, what it felt like to be cared for by someone, to rely on someone, now he wasn't able to get this mask back in place. He had lost this mask and he wasn't able to find it now that he needed it.

The Potions Master felt Harry's unease as they crossed the corridors, meeting other students that gave them curious glances and he growled darkly at them. He felt something touching his hand and gazing down he noticed the boy's smaller hand grasping his and after a short moment of shock he grasped Harry's hand back, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Of course this was destroying his reputation, he knew it. But if this was what the child now needed, then who was he to deny it? He would be able to build up his reputation in other ways later. He surely would find enough opportunities to frighten the rest of the students. It was not a question.

Well, he never would have done so in the past, taking one of the students by his hand, that much was sure. And surely he would allow no other student to take his hand in such a way now either. Absolutely never. But Harry was not any student. Harry was – Harry was Harry and Harry was his ward. Harry was becoming his son – with any chance.

Crossing the entrance hall they met a few Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs and the students stopped in their tracks to gawk at them in near shock at seeing the scary Potions Master leading the first year student named Harry Potter by his hand through the castle and Severus seethed at them angrily. They immediately scooted away to avoid getting detention.

Harry looked up at him, startled. The Professor clearly was back to the scary man he had been during Harry's first two days here at Hogwarts and he flinched, not knowing if he should keep close to the man, searching the safety the older wizard since five weeks now meant for him, or if he should get away from the man, that just now was – the scary dungeon bat the red haired boy had called him a few weeks earlier.

Unsurely he looked up at the Professor again, trying to read his face, his body language, trying to read anything. But it just wasn't possible. The man was as indifferent as always, unreadable, blank and … scary.

Severus sensed Harry's fear and he tightened the grip he had on the small hand, looking down at the boy.

"Hush, child." He whispered as the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs were out of hearing range. "I am not angry at you. I just cannot allow my reputation being destroyed."

They walked in silence for a few minutes until they had left the castle and Harry automatically grew worried as soon as they had left the safety of the walls. He needed a few more minutes until he had gotten used to the open place of Hogwarts grounds.

Well, of course he had left the castle earlier. He had – quite often now – visited the backyard. But that was different. There were no students. And this here, this wasn't the backyard he was used to.

"Was it that what you did, sir?" Harry signed after they had left the castle and after he felt safe enough to release the Professor's hand.

"I beg your pardon?" Severus asked, not really able to follow the boy's line of thoughts. He normally was able to as Harry didn't have the typical childish way of thinking.

Well, yes, Harry sometimes maybe thought even more in a childish way as most of the other students. But at the same times he somehow was so grown up in his line of thoughts that he nearly seemed to be an adult wizard, sometimes even an aged one and he was sure with some subjects the boy would be able to even best Albus.

"Well, keeping up your reputation? Back at the beginning of the term? When you hated me? Was it that what you did, sir?"

For a moment Severus closed his eyes, but then he stepped in front of Harry, stopping their walk and he knelt down in front of the boy, taking the small hands into his own. His dark eyes were nearly sad.

"Just now I wish I could say yes, Harry." He said and his voice was deeper than it normally was, a sign that he was trying to keep his emotions at bay. Whatever emotions that might be. "But as it is, I cannot do so for then I would lie to you. And as much as I want you to be honest with me, I will be honest with you as well. I wish I would have acted nasty towards you only to keep my reputation. But I did not. I did not hate you, as I already told you. I rather hated who you were. The famous Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world and spoiled prince. I didn't see the child in you that you really were. But I do see it now and I never will display hate towards you again. You do know this, do you, Harry?"

Harry nodded, his eyes downcast and Severus placed his fingers under the boy's chin, lifting his head until the unsure green eyes met his dark ones. "You do know this, Harry." Severus repeated. "Do you?"

"Yes, sir." The signs came

"Good." Severus said. "I only can apologize to you again for my actions towards you thus first two days."

But again, just like the last time, Harry looked startled at him and he shook his head, moving his hands in front of him as if he wanted to shove everything away from him.

"Even if you do not want to hear it, Harry." Severus let out a defeated sigh.

He knew that it wasn't that Harry didn't want to accept his apology. No. The boy just didn't understand why he apologized in the first place. He still believed that he – Severus – could do whatever he wanted because he was not only an adult, not only a teacher, but his guardian above all. The boy still believed that he would be allowed to beat him, to starve him and to lock him into a cupboard for days if he wanted, just because he was an adult and the boy's guardian. And he still believed that he – Harry – would have to silently accept every treatment, no matter how bad it would be, just because he was a child and thus had no rights.

In other words, Harry still didn't see that it had been a crime what his uncle had done to him.

He let out a defeated sigh and stood up to lead the boy further across Hogwarts ground, taking the small hand into his.

"You do have rights, child." He said while they walked. "I already have explained this to you. You do have the same rights as every other human being. You do have the right to live, to be kept safe and to be provided with what you need. And you have the same right to be happy as every other child is."

"Are you happy, sir?" Harry dared to ask and he gazed at the man unsurely, not knowing if he had offended him with his question.

"Remember, Harry." Severus said, his voice severe. "You are allowed to ask questions. And yes, I am happy. I might not have been a happy man until a few weeks ago, and I might not be a man who displays happiness, nor any emotions in the first place. But yes, just now I am a happy man."

Harry didn't answer to that, but he smiled and that made Severus' heart leap in his chest. The boy looked like the child he was when he smiled and he wanted him to look like this more often.

Once they had crossed the gates Severus opened his arms so that Harry could hold onto him while they apparated to London and he heard the boy's breath hitch when he opened his arms. Well, that had to be expected.

"Come here, Harry." He said in a calm voice. "I will apparate us to London, but you have to hold tightly on to me while I do so in order you do not go lost. We would not want this, now would we?"

Harry shook his head and slowly he marched over to the Professor. He really didn't want to go lost and really, holding onto Professor Snape wasn't that bad either. He had done so a few times now. He just had been startled.

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Albus Dumbledore stood in his office, his gaze wandering over the grounds of Hogwarts, enjoying the last few rays of warm sunlight before winter would come and coldness would fill the air, snow would settle over the grounds like a white blanket. And somehow he knew that his own winter had begun. He was about to lose Severus, the boy he always had seen as a son he'd never had, the boy that was closer to him than any other human being.

And the worst of all, it was his own fault. Not only by acting as he had done the past few weeks, by going against Severus' decisions in punishing the Dursleys at once, taking guardianship over Harry and Dudley Dursley. Well, he had not forbidden it directly. But he had shown his disagreement in the subject. And he had gone against Severus adopting Harry, even if he had done so just verbally. Clearly stating that Severus couldn't adopt him.

Well, yes - he had given his permission later and he even had promised to back him up in his decision. But that was not the point. He had gone gainst it at first.

But – what if Severus found out? What if somehow Severus found out that he not only had lied to him, but that he had kept his son from him over the years?

It had been the right decision back then, the only decision to keep both of them safe and alive.

But then – was that really true?

He had sent Lily and James into hiding with the child. He could have sent Lily into hiding with Severus instead of with James. Both of them surely would have been more happy than they actually had been. And both of them would have deserved happiness.

But Severus had been a spy. He had been the only spy they'd had. And he had known that he could not lose their only spy. And had Severus known that Harry was his son, then he surely would have taken his responsibility for his family. He would have quit his spying.

He had risked Severus' life many times during the years while sending him to spy on Voldemort and the man never had complained about it, as if he didn't care that he might die one day in the process.

But would he ever learn that Harry was his son, that he – Albus – had kept the boy form him, that would break the last remnants of trust the young man ever had showed to him and that slowly, bit by bit had vanished throughout the years.

Yes – he would lose Severus, and yes, it was his own fault.

His eyes fell onto two figures leaving the castle and crossing the grounds towards the gates. One figure was tall and clad completely in black, black hair falling over broad shoulders. The other figure was small and thin, more like a small child than an eleven year old boy, black hair nearly reaching slender shoulders and one small hand holding the Potions Master's larger hand.

Severus and Harry.

Father and son.

He watched as the two reached the gates, the boy signed something to Severus and the Potions Master stopping them, kneeling in front of the child. It was such a foreign sight that for a moment Albus had to blink and in that moment he knew he couldn't keep this information from Severus any longer. The interaction between them proved that they belonged together. And not only by adoption. Severus had to know that the boy was his son.

After the man stood again he opened his arms and after a moment of hesitation the boy stepped up to him, allowed Severus to take him into his arms and to apparate them away, most likely to Diagon Alley.

Yes – he had to tell Severus. Yet – where to begin?

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Severus apparated them directly into Diagon Alley, not wanting to enter this wizarding place through the Leaky Cauldron when he had the boy with him and he had to steady the child that swayed and clung to him as if to a lifeline, his face pale and perspiration on his forehead.

Had it been too soon? Should he have waited a few days more? The boy was still weak, just because he was able to take his lessons in potions and defence and in transfiguration and mind-magic didn't mean that he was up to much more. Especially bodily straining things like apparition was to a child.

Suppressing a growl that only would startle Harry he held the child close to his chest with one arm while he reached into the pocket of his cloak and pulled out a vial. He was glad he had thought of bringing some potions he might be in need of when leaving the child's safe haven that was Hogwarts.

"Hush, child." He whispered. "Drink this potion, it will help with the unease."

He placed the vial at the boy's lips, but immediately the boy began to sign, he didn't even shake his head and Severus thought the boy feared he would throw up at any moment if he did.

"Can't keep it …" Harry moved his trembling hands.

"Don't worry about that, child." Severus said. "It is the stomach easing potion you drink before each meal. You will keep it down. It will help."

Harry finally accepted the potion and Severus nodded satisfied, pocketed the empty vial and ran his thumb over the boy's forehead.

"Feeling better?" He asked when Harry was able to stand without his help and at the guilty look the child gave him he nearly shook his head.

"It is quite normal to feel this way after apparating for the first time, especially for one as young as you." He said. "I think the potion will work for the next few hours until after lunch by which time we hopefully will be back at Hogwarts."

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"… potion will work for the next few hours until after lunch by which time we hopefully will be back at Hogwarts."

Lucius Malfoy narrowed his cold eyes at the Potions Master while he walked over to them.

He had noticed the boy and he immediately knew who it was. Potter.

And by one look at the boy he immediately knew that Draco had done his job well. Potter looked ready to drop, his face pale, drawn and Severus actually had to steady him, to wipe his forehead.

Well, he had not thought that Severus would find a potion to undo the one he had sent Draco, but well, the boy looked like hell so the potion Severus gave him most likely just eased things a little. And with time not even Severus' potions would help anymore then. Draco just had to poison Potter further and with each time it would be worse – until death was sure.

He would write a letter to Draco, telling him that he was satisfied.

"Good morning, Severus." He greeted the Potions Master when he reached the two figures that still stood near a side street, noticing with some satisfaction that Potter seemed to fear him, by the look in the scared face and by the way – he nearly laughed at the sight – the boy reached his hand towards Severus' hand to cling to the Potions Master.

"Lucius." Severus drawled, ignoring the fact that Lucius smiled at him when Harry placed his hand in his again, knowing that it wasn't a friendly smile even if it looked like one. "What a pleasant surprise to meet you here."

"Yes, quite a surprise." Lucius Malfoy gazed at Harry. "I had a few – dealings to get over with."

Severus had to suppress a huff. He knew well what kind of dealings Lucius had handled and with a smirk he looked towards Nocturne Alley, causing the older Malfoy to smirk back at him.

"I see you are in loco parentis of Mr. Potter today, Severus?" Lucius then asked and the Potions Master nodded curtly.

"Indeed." He answered. "Mr. Potter is in need of a few school supplies and appropriate clothing."

"Ah, Severus." The blond man smiled sweetly. "The duties and responsibilities of a head of house. I was quite surprised that you have been sorted into Slytherin, Mr. Potter." He then addressed the boy.

The boy in question looked up at Severus, unsureness and fear clearly written all over his face and even if he knew that it might not be a wise move, he placed a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. He gave his best sneer of disgust towards Lucius, knowing that the man would misinterpret it and hoping that the boy wouldn't misinterpret it.

"Mr. Potter is not able to answer your question, Lucius, as he is mute." He said, giving the bony shoulder under his hand a light squeeze. Lucius might have been a Slytherin, and a sly one too, but he was not the spy _he_ was and thus wouldn't notice the squeeze. Lucius always had been too interested in the people's facial responses than to watch the body language below a face.

"Is he?" Malfoy lowered his head, looking back at the boy. "Well, I can imagine that might not be an easy situation then. Poor child."

"Indeed." Severus drawled.

"How is my son doing, Severus?" Lucius then addressed the Potions Master. "I hope Draco behaves well?"

"Draco indeed is behaving well and I am quite satisfied with his studies. Narcissa and you have done well in his former education and I actually am fond to inform you, he already is an outstanding student."

"Ah, Severus." Lucius smiled. "You have added to that in tutoring my son in potions during the years. You cannot blame all the credit onto my wife and myself."

"Little have I done, my friend." Severus smirked "I hope Narcissa is well?"

"Actually she suffers from Draco being absent, but that had been to be expected. However - yes, otherwise she is quite well."

"Indeed, not only the young students suffer from homesickness but the mothers as well." Severus inclined his head. "I have to deal with that each year. It will fade with time. Please, do me the favour and give her my best wishes, Lucius."

"But of course, Severus." Lucius smiled. "But now I have to apologize. I have an appointment at the ministry. Minister Fudge asked me to visit him for tea at ten. I wonder what kind of stupid, little problem he might have come up with now."

"Always the busy man, Lucius." Severus answered. "But we too have to be on our way as I wish to be back at Hogwarts before lunch."

"Understandable." Lucius cast a glance at the boy and Severus gave the small shoulder beneath his hand another light squeeze. "Severus. Mr. Potter."

"Lucius." Severus answered and then watched while the blond man turned and left towards the Leaky Cauldron, probably to floo directly into the ministry of magic.

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"You better be careful around Lucius Malfoy." Severus said, leading Harry along the nearly empty street of Diagon Alley. In those hours of the day he liked the street the most, when not much people were out. Only a few witches were heading along the street now, buying what they needed while their children were still at school and their husbands at work so they could go shopping in peace, having a cup of tea in one of the cafes in silence or visit friends.

Later – in the afternoon the street would be crowded with witches and wizards and with children and he just would have had to watch his ever step. This was the reason why he had brought Harry now. And nevertheless he had brought two vials of a calming draught with him, sure he would need at least one. Yet – he hoped he wouldn't need them too soon. But knowing Harry, he wouldn't be so lucky.

"And yes, he is Draco's father." He continued, just to keep the boy's mind busy and off the other people in the street, as less people as there might be. "Yet – Draco isn't like his father and he has a chance to become a different man in a few years. Not the cold person you have seen in Lucius Malfoy."

The boy gave a tiny smile. A smile that was overlaid with fear while the small hand clung to him in a nearly desperate attempt and the large green eyes darted into every direction. For a moment Severus wondered if the boy tried to look into every direction at once. Every sound startled the boy and more often than not he faltered in his steps to cling tighter to his hand and to take a startled look into the direction the sound came from.

Well, as soon as they were in Gladrag's Harry possibly would get calmer when they left the open space that seemed to scare him to no end. And with a reason, Severus only silently could seethe in new fury that threatened to overwhelm him. Living in such a small and dark place as a cupboard, it had to be frightening to be in such a large and open place now where you couldn't see all the edges and walls.

They reached the shop they were heading for and Severus pushed the door open, tightening his grip on Harry's hand when the boy flinched at the tingling of the small bells that hang from the sailing as the door opened and brushed against them. He led the boy in and to the counter to their left.

"Good morning, Professor Snape." Gladrag junior greeted him cheerfully, smiling at him and then at the boy. "It's been a long time, what can I do for you?"

"Good morning." The Potions Master greeted back. "I require a complete wardrobe for this young man. Everything from underwear over all-day clothes up to shoes and robes."

Gladrag junior's eyes widened at that and he blinked at him for a moment before he nodded.

"Of course, Professor." He then meant. "I just will get my father for that, I'm sure this will take a bit of a time."

"Actually I would be glad if you or your brother could be of assistance as Mr. Potter is quite a bit frightened of strangers and I guess you younger people would scare him less than your father would."

Again Gladrag blinked at him, but then he nodded again.

"No problem, Professor." He said. "I will inform my brother then to take over here so I'm free for you."

"Thank you." Severus nodded and waited until the younger Gladrag came back together with his brother who shortly nodded at them and then went behind the counter.

"Well, here we are." Marvin Gladrag said. Or Marcel Gladrag, he never had been able to tell those two apart.

He'd never had problems telling the Weasley twins apart. Contrary to the other teachers which were often fooled by them. He knew how to tell them apart. He just never could tell the Gladrag twins apart.

"You don't happen to know Mr. Potter's measures?" The younger shop owner asked.

"Regrettable not, Mr. Gladrag." Severus answered, noticing the tense shoulders of the boy. When Harry continued like this, then he would be stiff and sore this evening.

"Well, then I guess we have to do this first." Gladrag smiled at the boy, waving his wand and a parchment appeared, hovering midair in front of his face.

Gladrag pushed his hand at the parchment, looking annoyed, yet – he smiled. "Stupid little thing." He growled lightly. "You ever heard of personal space? It always does this, surely just to annoy me." He added towards Harry and the boy actually smiled.

Well, maybe he wouldn't have to worry so much. The young Gladrag seemed to know how to turn Harry's fears away, for the moment at least.

"Well, normally I would have a measure to take your size, a funny little thing indeed, I even gave it a name, but I guess you won't like this as it is as annoying as is the parchment. It just doesn't keep space." The young man laughed. "So – just let me take your size with the wand … just like this … and there … oh, and here … now take a chocolate drop … and then I need your heights … and now stretch out your arms … oh … oh, come on, you can do that … look, just like me … no? … well … ok, then your feet at first … here you go … and then the width of your waist … that's it … and of your chest … Professor, if you don't feed him more, he won't make so good potions ingredients, really … now I need the width of your neck … just encase you will have to wear a tie one day, to impress the girls … but it won't work with ties, I can tell you, I tried it … ok, but now … I need you to stretch out your arms … still not? … come on, lad, you can do that, it's easy, really, just … oh … Marvin, could you get your sorry behind over here for a moment? I need you as a … ok, just forget it … stay where you are … Professor!" Came the desperate call finally. "I really could need your help here, I've tried everything."

Well, Severus had to admit, the twin really had done a good job, avoiding a panic attack at all up to now. He had joked, grinned at Harry, had kept a stream of words up to get the boy's mind off the tingling the measure caused and he had ignored Harry's refusal of the chocolate drop without an embarrassing comment. He even immediately had recognized Harry being startled when he had called for his brother whom he – with no doubt – had wanted as a living example to be copied.

Gently pulling Harry in front of him he softly gripped the boy's arms and bending down to whisper into Harry's ears he stretched the boy's arms out, ignoring the reluctance with which the boy answered to the movement.

"Mr. Gladrag's parchment still doesn't know manners." He whispered. "It still is hovering in front of his face. I know you like to keep yourself as small as possible. But maybe you could do the opposite for now and show the parchment what personal space means. Namely arms length. Just so to avoid me giving the parchment a detention for its lack of manners."

**Flashback**

_"I know, that you like to keep yourself as small as possible, that you like to keep yourself as invisible as possible." Severus said, watching the child in front of him close. "Maybe you just want to do so now, searching for a hiding place. Where would you hide then?"_

_The boy looked at him startled and he wasn't sure if he was startled because he had suggested he actually might search for a hiding place or if he was startled by the thought of really hiding just now when being asked to do so. So he gave an encouraging nod towards Harry. He didn't say more, there was no need to say more. He just stood there and waited, watched, silently __wondering what the boy would do now._

_Well, Harry looked around the room._

_They were not in Harry's room, so he couldn't hide under the bed and in here there was nothing that really would be a hiding place. The boy could crouch behind the sofa or behind one of the armchairs, but he just would have to round them and then he would see him and he was sure that Harry knew just this. The boy might hide under the table, but he easily would be found there too. _

_The boy slowly making his way towards his room brought him out of his thoughts and he watched Harry entering the nursery, heeding straight for his bed and creeping underneath it. He wasn't able to suppress a smile that tucked at the corner of his lips. Harry clearly had done what he had told him to do. To hide. And shaking his head Severus followed the boy and knelt in front of the bed, looking under the furniture._

_He couldn't make out the boy himself, he just saw the blanket that was covering the form of a child. _

_"Very good, Harry." He said, smiling again at the sight. "A perfect hiding place. I wouldn't have found you if I hadn't known you were down there. Now, come forth, please."_

_Harry slowly came back, creped out from under the bed, his eyes never leaving the Potions Master who backed away to give the boy room, knowing Harry wouldn't come forth if he was too close now._

_"Well." He nodded as soon as Harry stood in front of him, unsurely gazing up at him. "Even now, you are trying to make yourself as small as possible, your arms pressed towards your body in front of you, your fingers curled into fists and even your wrists are as bend as are your shoulders. Have a look." He added while he waved his wand, conjuring a rather large mirror so the boy could see himself fully. _

_Harry really looked into the mirror, but somehow it seemed he wasn't able to see the point and so Severus stepped closer, beside the child, ignoring the flinch that immediately followed his action. He stood tall and straight beside the child._

_"Do you see what I mean?" He asked and he waited silently while the child studied both images in the mirror. His own bend and curled into himself form and the Potions Master's tall and straight form, his eyes going from image to image and for a long time he wasn't sure if the boy really understood what he meant. But then Harry cast his eyes down and he nodded._

_"I want you to do the exact different thing now than you have done earlier." Severus said, his eyes never leaving the boy. "Instead of hiding, I want you to make yourself seen. Make yourself as big as you possibly can. Start with just lowering your arms to your side." He added when the boy shook his head in horror. _

_He waited for a few moments, but when nothing happened he simply stepped behind the boy, the mirror still in front of them so Harry could see what exactly he was doing and then Severus reached in front of the boy, gently taking the thin wrists into his hands and slowly shoving the boy's arms downwards until they hung beside the child's body._

_"See what I mean?" The Potions Master asked in a low voice. "Do you see the difference?"_

_It took Harry a long time until he finally nodded and Severus inclined his head satisfied. _

_"Now I want you to uncurl your fists. Relax your fingers to do as your arms are doing now." Severus ordered and again nothing happened, for a long time at least, a long time during which the Potions Master just kept his hands on the boy's shoulders. But then Harry finally and actually unclenched his fists and allowed his fingers to relax._

_Well, they didn't really relax. They actually trembled. Yet - they weren't curled into a fist anymore but openly pointed towards the floor beneath Harry's feet and that was all Severus had asked for._

_"That's it." The Potions Master whispered. "Well done, Harry. That was just great. Now I want you to take one last step and straighten up. Take your shoulders back and straighten yourself. Try to get bigger for an inch."_

_Again nothing - and Severus placed both his thumbs on the boy's shoulder blades and gave a light push while the tips of the rest of his fingers pulled at the boy's front of the shoulders, trying to get the boy to move into the direction he wanted him to. Trying to get the boy a bit more upright. He had done the exercises with the boy every morning up to now, those in which he placed one hand between Harry's shoulder blades and the other on his collarbones and then gently forced him into an upright position. But just now he wanted Harry to do so on his own._

_Well - he finally did so, even if it was reluctantly, but he straightened up - a bit. _

_"That's it, Harry." He said. "You do that well. Now look at you."_

_The boy nearly was different, just from standing tall and straight, and the stern Potions Master gave him one of his rare smiles._

**End Flashback**

The measure was quickly taken and Harry could lower his arms again which he immediately wrapped around himself as if to hide behind them, or as if to keep himself safe.

"Hey, that was great." Gladrag smiled. "See? The stupid parchment finally keeps its space … and now your tongue … ok, ok, you don't have to, that just was a joke … well, we're done with that. Now, to the list … underwear … I would suggest black and white?"

Severus nodded.

"Then the wardrobe itself … what color would you want to have?"

Harry looked unsurely at Professor Snape, not sure what he should say, not even sure what color he wanted. Never before had he been allowed to choose what color he wanted. Nor what he wanted in the first place, and he just didn't know what to do.

"I suggest green as you are in Slytherin?" Severus asked and Harry nodded, glad that he didn't have to make this choice. "Well, then green, black and white for shirts, T-shirts and jumpers."

"Maybe a red one too?" Gladrag smirked and he laughed at the horrified face the Potions Master made. Nevertheless Severus questioningly looked at Harry who shook his head, having noticed the horrified face.

"Apparently not, Mr. Gladrag. It was Gryffindor, if my memory serves me right?" Severus asked with a smirk and the young man nodded.

"A Gryffindor through and through." He said.

"I thought as much." Severus drawled. "The robes plain black ones, the warmer models please and the trousers plain black together with two Blue Jeans."

Soon the list was ready to be gathered and then packed up and the only thing left were the shoes.

"I would prefer hiking boots, even if they might not be common to Hogwarts standards." Severus said. "I want the boy to have a safe footing."

Gladrag nodded and then once again got over the list with the required items to ensure nothing was forgotten.

Normally Severus would not back off the standard uniform that was required at Hogwarts – and hiking boots surely were not part of this – but the boy's ankles were much too thin and much too weak for his liking, just like all the other joints and he feared the boy would twist his ankles at any awkward turn he took. Not to mention that the ankles would be less tiring with shoes which were more secure.

"Please ensure that everything is packed and sent to my quarters at Hogwarts." Severus said and Gladrag nodded, wishing them a good day and Severus steered the boy out of the shop.

Next would be Flourish and Blott's to gather more parchment, a pencil and a few more quills. And he wanted a few books for the boy so he wouldn't have to read books he surely didn't understand at his age as they were mainly academic books.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus had led Harry towards the section that contained shelves of books for children and young teenagers. For a moment he had thought he could leave the boy alone while he collected a few books for himself, but then he decided against it, feared that the boy might get into a panic attack as soon as someone would enter this section while he was away. He could imagine how the boy would react to strangers without him being close.

"You might choose whatever books you want, Harry." Severus said. "Those are books that are more appropriate for your age than the books you might find at home."

The boy looked at him, startled and immediately he shook his head, horror written all over the pale face and Severus sighed. He should have known that Harry wouldn't dare choosing a few books for his own when the situation presented itself. He might have agreed earlier, before they had left their quarters, but now, that the time had come for him to actually do so, he got frightened.

"Remember what I told you this morning, Harry." Severus said. "I want you to have some books for you to use and to learn, and not only school books. You learn with every book you read. Books are important and I want you to choose some."

But still the boy stood there, tense and rigid like the shelves that surrounded them, and for a moment Severus closed his eyes.

Finally he smiled, searched the shelves and after finding the tales of Beedle the Bard he pulled the book from the shelf and sat down into one of the armchairs, beckoning Harry over.

Harry slowly walked towards him, still tense and rigid, his gait reluctant as if he had to force himself to walk over and Severus pulled the boy closer as soon as he was within arms length, lifted the small form and seated him into his lap.

For a moment he thought the boy might begin to panic, his entire body was radiating fear but he just pulled the small and tense body closer until Harry rested against his chest. He ran his hand up and down the thin spine, allowed his fingers to play with each backbone and he simply began to read.

Harry didn't dare to relax in the Professor's grip, unsure what exactly the man expected of him.

This here, this was different.

At home, it was easy. He knew that the Professor expected him to eat, to sleep, to keep his room clean and to learn. He expected him to not cook or clean the rest of the quarters, he expected him to not do the gardening and to not do any chores but he expected him to rest in the garden. He expected him to improve his writing but to not learn mind-magic too long. He expected him to obey him but not to fear him and not to apologize. And he thought he managed quite well.

At home.

But not here. They were not at home and he didn't know what the Professor expected of him here.

Well, at the moment it seemed he expected him to relax, to sit there and to listen.

'_That's easy.'_ He thought, closing his eyes. _'That's easy, I can do that. Sitting here and listen. I can do that.'_

Severus smiled when he felt the boy in his arms finally relaxing after what seemed to be an eternity and at the end of the story he gazed down into a relatively stress-free face that was wary still but not as concentrated with alarm as it normally was and it gave the boy a nearly complete new look.

"Did you like this one?" He asked, his eyebrow lifted.

"Yes, sir." Harry answered nodding and for a moment the boy gave him a smile before it was replaced again with the ever present wariness.

"Then I suggest you search the shelves for all four books of Beedle the Bard." He said, lifting Harry off his lap and placing the boy on his feet in front of him, giving the small shoulders a gentle shove and thus cause the boy to begin walking towards the shelves.

"You have changed, Severus." A silent voice to his left interrupted his thoughts while he watched the boy walking over to the shelves, searching for the books he had suggested, and he turned.

Remus Lupin leaned against one of the shelves, watching him with his golden eyes, his arms loosely hanging by his side. He wore his usual shabby clothes and he looked as tired as always, but his eyes were soft and warm.

"Lupin." Severus greeted, remembering that – even if he never really liked the man – he had been the only one of the marauders who really had cared about Lily, remembering that the werewolf had been the only one of the marauders who had not taunted him and humiliated him as Potter, Black and Pettigrew had done and he nodded towards the man, his face relaxing a bit.

"Lily's child?" Lupin asked and Severus nodded, gazing at the boy that now held one of the books in his hand. It wasn't one of Beedle the Bard. Those books already were placed at the floor beside Harry.

"Yes." Severus answered as quietly as Lupin had addressed him. "Yes, that is Lily's child, Harry."

"What happened to him?" Lupin asked and Severus huffed for a moment.

"You never met Lily's sister, I take it?" He then asked.

"No." The other man lowered his head to his right in a questioning manner. "No, I never met her."

"You surely didn't miss anything." Severus growled darkly. "Let me assure you of this." Again his eyes went over to Harry who now sat at the floor, flipping through the pages of the book he held in his hands.

"He lived with her after Lily's death." Lupin simply stated. "With her and her husband."

"Regrettably." Severus huffed again. "If you can call it 'lived'."

"Did they cause this?" Lupin asked and for a moment he wanted to ask his former fellow student what exactly he meant with 'this'. but then he remembered that it wouldn't help things if he allowed his anger to be directed against the other. It wasn't Lupin's fault. Neither Harry's abuse, nor Lily's death or the fact that she had been unhappy in her marriage. Lupin had been there for her whenever she had needed him. And it wasn't Lupin's fault either that Potter, Black and Pettigrew had humiliated him at every turn they had taken.

He watched the small child and he easily could see what exactly Lupin meant. It was clearly visible to even a blind man that this boy was ill. Harry was still much too pale and thin. The sharp angles of his bones visible even through his clothes and the visible wrists with the scars running around them were not just slender, they were – they seemed so fragile he wondered how he always managed to hold those wrists without breaking them accidentally.

The pale face was as thin as the rest of the boy's body was, without any colors aside from the circles that still were present under the green eyes that looked tired and exhausted. The entire boy looked tired and exhausted and yet still tense and wary. The child just never allowed himself to take a moment of rest. Always afraid what might happen if he relaxed for just a moment.

"Yes." He softly answered and it was enough, there was no explanation necessary.

"He's in your house." Lupin said, his eyes back on the boy and the green and silver crest on the black robe.

"Obviously." Snape drawled, causing Lupin to lightly chuckle.

"Will he recover?" The werewolf then asked, immediately serious again.

Severus cast a quick glance at the werewolf before he looked back at Harry.

"You and Lily, you have been close." He finally answered. "You have been the only one who really cared about her. And thus I would like to say – yes, he will recover. But as it is, I do not know."

"You have cared about her as deeply as I have, Severus." Lupin answered, watching him with a strange expression on his face before he too looked back at the boy. "But he will survive, will he?"

"Yes. He will survive. But maybe he never will truly live."

"They have been punished, haven't they?" Lupin asked and Severus smirked at him.

"They have indeed." He answered and for a moment the werewolf could see the satisfaction in the Potions Master's black eyes, and he knew that Severus himself had punished them.

"You didn't kill them?" He asked startled.

"Regrettably not." Severus answered and Lupin gave a sigh of relieve. "But I am sure they wish I had."

For a moment Lupin nodded, understanding what Severus meant and he better didn't think about what exactly Severus had done to them. As he knew the man, it was more than just unpleasant and for another moment he remembered why the Potions Master was a man that was feared. He wasn't a cruel man in general, but Remus knew that he could be, if he so wished.

Harry meanwhile had noticed the stranger that was standing beside him and Severus watched the boy tensing up even more, scrambling to his feet and standing beside the shelf, unsure and watching them with frightened eyes. He waved the boy over and Harry slowly obeyed, came closer. He easily noticed the boy's eyes darting to and fro between the two men and the entrance of the shop in search for a route to escape if necessary and he knew why the boy was so unsure. He wasn't close enough to him – Severus – and slowly he extended his arm, inviting the boy to take those last few steps and into the safety of his presence.

"That is Mr. Lupin, Harry." Severus said as the boy finally reached him and he placed both his hands on Harry's shoulders, squeezing them lightly to sooth the nervous child.

"Hello Harry." Lupin said as soon as the boy stood in front of him, his back pressing against him in order to bodily feel the safety he searched for, nodding his own greeting.

"He is an old …" For a moment the Potions Master hesitated, looking back at Lupin, but then his eyes softened. Lupin had been a friend of Lily. And a true friend at that. "He is an old friend of mine and your mother's from when we had been in school by our own."

Harry turned his head and looked up at him, a thoughtful expression on his face before he turned back to watch Lupin and Severus couldn't suppress a low chuckle. It must be strange for such a young child to consider his teacher being in school by himself, or being a child by himself.

"What book do you have here, Harry?" He asked and as if the boy just now remembered the book he still clutched to his chest he glanced down at the tomb and then reached it over it to Severus who took it and glanced at the title.

'The never ending story, by Michael Ende, one of the best muggle authors for fantasy books'.

"A good choice of yours." He said, giving the book back to Harry. "You might add it to the tales of Beedle the Bard to take home with you."

Harry looked at him startled again, the fear in his face deepening for a moment, but he nodded when Severus lifted his eyebrow, reminding him at his earlier words. However, the boy didn't move out of the safety he meant for Harry and he kept his hands on the small shoulders, not minding the fact that Lupin saw the display between them. The werewolf had seen him handle Lily and a small Harry before. Before Lily had died. Before he had become a dark and cold man who cared for nothing and no one.

"Yes, you really have changed, Severus." Lupin silently repeated his earlier words. "And it is a change Lily would have liked."

Severus wasn't sure if he would be able to trust his voice just now and thus only nodded at the werewolf. Would Lily really feel joy now? Seeing him interacting with her son? He hadn't thought about that. He just had wanted to help the boy. It never had occurred to him what Lily might think of it. And the thought that she might – just maybe – be glad about it, that she might – just maybe – be proud of him now, it warmed him just the more.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had taken Harry to Geegaw's childworld next, a bright little shop filled with toys, dolls, books, crayons, games and stuffed animals, filled from the floor up to the ceiling, telling the boy he could chose whatever he wanted.

Well, and now Harry stood in front of the shelves, his eyes wide, but he didn't touch anything, he just watched.

His startled green eyes lingered on several toys longer than on others, but he quickly averted his eyes then and looked over to another shelve, filled with small and cheep things and Severus easily could see what was going through the boy's mind. Harry clearly didn't dare to ask for anything, especially not for anything that was expensive and he would rather leave the shop right now than ask for even such a small and cheap toy he just now stood in front of.

He sighed and placed his hands on Harry's shoulder, startling the child who looked at him with fearful and tired eyes, and the Potions Master had to consider his next move for a moment.

The boy was tired, exhausted, the strain of keeping his self control up and his fear he felt outside their safe quarters at bay, taking his toll on the child. He could now either take the boy and go home with him so he could rest and they would come back another day, but then the boy would be disappointed, thinking he had made a mistake. It wouldn't do either of them any good. Or he could go through with it as good as possible and deal with the exhaustion the child felt later.

He decided against the first thought and simply knelt in front of Harry, gazed at him intently, searchingly.

"You do not have to choose the smallest things just because they are the cheapest, Harry." He softly said. "I told you, you may choose whatever you want to have."

Well, the gaze with which the boy looked at him definitely told him, he wouldn't do so and sighing heavily he shortly waved the shopkeeper over, talking to her silently for a moment before the elderly woman quickly waved her wand and all the small signs with the small numbers vanished at once. Severus inclined his head towards her in a manner to express his thanks.

"Well, now you may go ahead and chose something you might want to have." The Potions Master couldn't help but smirk at the boy in front of him, his eyes glinting evilly for a moment and the boy immediately knew that he had lost.

In the end he had a wizarding chess game, a rune stones game and a set of dragons for collecting – not to mention an unsure smile on his face.

"I suggest we take a small lunch in the Steaming Kitchen, before we continue our shopping." The Potions Master suggested, shrinking the games and the dragons and pocketing them into his robes where he already had secured the shrunken books Harry had chosen. Again he gazed into the child's face, noticing the unsure smile and he nodded, glad that he had decided to stay instead of bringing the child home to rest. It would be alright, the boy would be alright. In the end.

He placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder, leading him out of the small toy shop and down the road towards the Steaming Kitchen to have a short lunch.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_The second part of the trip to Diagon Alley and Severus having all hands full to keep Harry safe and sane until they are back home_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter as well ... thank you


	27. Diagon Alley part two

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Yes – it's not here, this time … the annoying little note … .oO( … how shocking …) …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Again he gazed into the child's face, noticing the unsure smile and he nodded, glad that he had chosen to stay instead of bringing the child home to rest. He placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder, leading him out of the small toy shop and down the road towards the Steaming Kitchen to have a short lunch._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter twenty-seven**

**Diagon Alley – part two**

In the Steaming Kitchen Severus had chosen a side table where he could sit with Harry in privacy without having prying eyes on him and the boy. The boy was nervous enough as it was and he had been lucky that no panic attack had taken place up to now. But Harry was tense enough so that he feared the boy's body might snap at every point now and he could feel how the child was loosing grip on his mask with each minute that passed. Harry definitely was more than just exhausted from the day's events and he had to admit, it was a lot the boy had been put through today.

Any other child might have had a brilliant day, might have had enjoyed being out of school and in Diagon Alley, to have his guardian's full attention and going from shop to shop and to chose clothes, toys and books for himself. But not Harry, and he had known it from the beginning, had expected problems.

For Harry, that here was pure horror. Leaving the castle, for Harry it meant leaving a safe haven. Entering a shop, for Harry it meant facing new dangers and maybe new horrors. And choosing toys and books, for Harry it meant hell because it was not what he was used to. No one ever had given him books or toys, a shopping trip or let alone time to spend with other than in punishments and beatings.

This, yes - he had known from the beginning that this trip to Diagon Alley could only end disastrous.

Well, the boy had kept himself better than he had thought.

He was tired and exhausted, yes. And he had reacted with fear and with uncertainty, yes. But he had been calm all morning long without getting into a panic attack. But now he could feel the boy's exhaustion taking the upper hand and his calm mask slip more and more and he knew that he would have to be careful now.

Maybe lunch would help and the boy would feel better after he had some food in his stomach. Then again, maybe eating here outside their safe quarters where they were alone and surrounded by safe walls would just worsen the situation. He didn't know. He just could wait and see what would happen.

He ordered two sandwiches, pumpkin juice for Harry and water for himself, hoping the boy would eat anything at all out here in the open. He knew Harry's fears, he even knew that Harry feared his uncle might find him, might see him and he guessed he would have to reassure the boy that this here was not muggle London but Diagon Alley, a wizarding place and that his uncle wouldn't be able to come and see him here, that he was safe and that he could eat.

Well, as soon as the food arrived he found his fears confirmed and he sighed, watched the boy for a moment, considering his next steps while Harry sat at the table, his hands in his lap and not even able to look at the food on the table in front of him.

"Harry." He quietly said, trying to gain the boy's attention but it was to no avail. Harry looked pale and more than just uncomfortable, his body tense and trembling and he still didn't look up.

"Look at me, Harry." He tried again, but the boy only lifted his eyes for a short moment at him before he again looked down, even refusing to look at the window beside him. He reached over to place his fingers underneath the small chin, trying to lift the boy's head, but immediately Harry flinched away from him, his body tensing up even more yet and at once the small fist made the sign for apologizing.

"There is no need to apologize, Harry." He said, and making his mind up Severus took a small vial out of his robes and poured half of the content into the boy's pumpkin juice before shoving the glass over to the distraught child. It wasn't enough for Harry to get drugged or unresponsive, but it was enough so the boy would at least relax a bit and thus feel a bit more comfortable. He couldn't keep the boy in the state he was in just now.

"Drink this, Harry." He said, fixing the eleven year old with his dark eyes, giving him a look that made clear he wouldn't allow any sidesteps, he had to drink this.

Harry slowly extended his hand to take the glass. He was tired beyond tiredness, he hadn't been as tired in a long time as he was just now and he hurt all over. His back, his shoulders, his arms, even his chest and his stomach hurt, and his feet too. And if uncle Vernon saw him, sitting here in a restaurant with the Professor, he would immediately come in and he would drag him out of here, or he would not even drag him out to kill him but do so in here. Either way, he was dead if uncle Vernon saw him here.

"Your uncle is not here, Harry, and he will not be able to enter Diagon Alley at all." Severus said, knowing exactly what Harry was thinking. "This here is not muggle London but a wizarding place and even if your uncle would be near, he wouldn't even be able to see this palce here if he stood in front of it. He will not be able to enter this place. And even if he would be able to, do you honestly think I would allow him to harm you?"

Harry shook his head and Severus gave him a short nod. "Drink this, Harry." He said once again. "And then I wish you to eat. We still have a few hours ahead of us. You are safe here and you are safe in my presence."

For a short moment, when Harry still made no move to do as he had told him, he feared he would have to force the boy into drinking the juice and that was not what he would like to do here, but then Harry nodded and took the glass, his movements still unsure and clearly fearful, but he was slowly drinking from the orange colored liquid.

"That's it." Severus said, pleased with the boy. "And now eat, at least a bit of your sandwich."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry hadn't eaten as much as he had liked the boy to eat, but he had eaten at least a bit and that was more than he had feared he _would_ eat. But even if he had been glad for it, it hadn't had the effect he had hoped it would have. The boy still was tired and exhausted, after lunch just the more than before. The fear of eating outside the safety that the castle's walls meant to him had taken a great deal of strength out of the boy and it was even visible. Harry looked ready to drop.

He had been calmer after he had drunken the pumpkin juice that was laced with the calming draught, and he had been able to control himself a bit better, had not fallen into a panic attack, but that had not meant it wouldn't cost him any energy.

Well, they had visited the apothecary after lunch and now they just had one more shop to go. Eeyelop's Owl Emporium.

As soon as they had entered the apothecary where Severus had bought some potions ingredients he needed, Harry had been strangely calm, he visibly had relaxed a bit. Not entirely, but enough so that Severus noticed and at first he had made a mental note to this, to think about it later. Most children didn't like the apothecary because of the smell of herbs and other potions ingredients. But Harry had visibly relaxed in there.

And then they had left and Harry had taken one last deep breath before he had led the boy out of the dark and little shop and that intake of breath, this had caused him to recognize the reason as to _why _Harry had relaxed in there.

He had seen the boy sometimes inhaling the scent when they entered his laboratory. And just now – he actually looked at the boy for a moment lost in thought at that recognition – he remembered the boy inhaling the scent that always clung to his robes like mist clung to a river or a moor. He never before had given it a thought. But now … yes, the boy actually had inhaled his scent earlier, whenever he had been holding him, whenever he had been close enough.

He didn't understand and he hadn't the time to think about it just now either, he would have to think about it later, when they were back and when Harry was safe and sleeping.

He felt the answer, knew that Harry felt safe in his presence, knew that the boy saw more in him than just his teacher, more than even just his guardian. He knew that the boy saw him as his father somehow, that he even had asked questions about it, but somehow his mind refused to acknowledge the truth yet. It just was stupid, honestly. He was not a person any child would want to have as a father. Most of the students even hated him.

Shaking his head Severus led Harry across the street to Eeyelop's where he needed treats for his owl and then they would go back to Hogwarts. It was time for the boy who looked as if he would snap at every moment now. Harry needed rest, desperately, and he needed the calmness, the quietness and the safety of their quarters.

He led the boy into the small shop and towards the counter.

"Ah, Severus." The shop owner, a man as dark as Severus was, greeted the Potions Master, his face lightening up with a happy smile and Severus inclined his head. His face that he had schooled into a cold mask as soon as they had left Hogwarts grounds and entered Diagon Alley and thus were in the open where they would meet other people, was softening a bit.

Yes, Severus had to admit, he was as insecure when being out in the public and he felt as uncomfortable when being with other people as was Harry. He wasn't a man who easily socialized. He just was better in hiding it as he was an adult and had years of learning to repress his emotions. But seeing Herbaceous, well, the man was one of the few he deeply cared for.

"Herbaceous." Severus greeted back.

"It has been a while, my friend. What can I do for you? Arturo?"

"Indeed. I need treats and food for Arturo." Severus said and Harry lifted his head, looking questioningly up at the Professor.

"My owl." Severus explained shortly, glad that the boy still showed some interest. Maybe they would make it back to school without the panic attack he feared, without an emotional breakdown of any kind.

Herbaceous, the shop owner went into the back of the shop to get what Severus had asked for. He knew that the Potions Master wouldn't buy the treats that were in the shop itself. Not because they were not good, what he sold _was_ good, but because Severus knew that he laced them with different flavours and didn't want this.

But honestly, the pure owl treats, most of the people didn't buy them because they thought their poor owls needed something that tasted like strawberries, apples, pumpkin or even cheese and onion or bacon. He always told them that the animals didn't mind what the treats tasted like, and that all those flavours weren't too good for the owls either. But they didn't mind, and – honestly – who was he to refuse them the treats they wanted to have? He would go down the hill with his shop if he would.

So he sold them what they wanted and he kept the pure owl treats for Severus and a few other owners of owls in the back of the shop.

Harry had left Severus' side and stood in front of a small porch. A middle sized bat hang upside down from the overhang, eyeing the boy with its black eyes nearly questioningly and Harry looked interested back for a while before he slowly extended his hand towards the animal. For a moment Severus thought he should stop the boy.

It never was good to try and touch a strange animal without knowing how it reacted. But before he could do anything the bat had climbed from the porch and was now hunched on the counter, its snout slowly edging towards Harry's extended fingers. Its movements were as slow as Harry's movements and there was nothing threateningly in the animal's appearance. Severus nevertheless was on guard, ready to snatch the boy's hand away.

Harry at the same time reached further towards the bat and was now actually touching the animal's head, stroking his finger slowly, hesitantly over the soft black coat.

The bat made no movement against it but closed its black eyes and leaned into the soft touch.

Still observing the scene closely with his own black eyes Severus crouched down beside Harry, a thought striking him.

"Would you like to have this animal, Harry?" He silently whispered, not wanting to startle the boy or the animal, but it seemed alone the question had been enough to startle the boy and to frighten him out of his wits. He quickly pulled his hand away from the animal, taking more than just one step back and his eyes widened in pure horror. He shook his head vehemently, while the small body trembled as he took another step backwards, away from the animal, away from the Potions Master.

He didn't look at him, his eyes were still fixed onto the bat, but Severus could see the horror in them.  
"Easy, child." He whispered, taking a step towards Harry. "It is alright, you do not have to. I just thought you were fond of that bat. Breathe calmly, child. Take a deep breath and breathe calmly."

Well, whatever troubled the boy, it didn't work, not this time.

He normally was able to calm Harry with just his words since some time now, enough at least so he could talk to him calmly. But not this time and for a moment he was at a loss and pinching the bridge of his nose he tried to figure out what exactly had happened just now.

One moment Harry had carded his finger over the animal with a tenderness that clearly showed affection while his eyes had gone soft and the boy nearly had smiled. He definitely had shown absolutely no signs of fear towards the bat. And the other moment he had a boy in front of him that was at the brink to a panic attack and he had no clue as to why.

"Breathe calmly, child." He continued to whisper. "What troubles you?" But he got no answer and still Harry had his eyes fixed upon the bat that eyed him with nearly sad – yet understanding eyes. Severus narrowed his own eyes at the animal before he reached out to place his hand onto the boy's shoulder and decided to concentrate on just Harry.

"Hush, child." He whispered, moving in front of the boy to block his view of the animal. "Tell me what's wrong, Harry. I cannot help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

Well, he got no answer, neither one with signs nor any other movements, Harry still stood there, root to the spot as if he would see through his body and still see the bat that was behind him.

But then he saw and it was like it had been in the infirmary weeks ago now. Not he had used legillimens but the boy was about to show him and he nearly smiled at the raw and inexperienced kind of magic he could feel.

_A cupboard … a corner under a board … a rather large spider …_

But - again Severus narrowed his eyes at the animal that still watched the child - that was no spider the boy might fear, that was a bat and he had shown no fear towards the animal. He still didn't understand.

_Again the cupboard … shelves … crumbles of bread on a shelf … a small bowl with water … again the spider …_

Could it have been that the boy had tried to feed the spider? That he hadn't feared the spider? Well, that made some sense and he suddenly knew what had happened. Apparently Harry had kept the spider as a familiar, and then it had grown old and had died. Common spiders hadn't such a long lifespan.

_A face … Vernon Dursley's face for being correct … screaming … the abominable man looking at the spider with an evil glint in his eyes … a large hand that pulled a small boy out of the cupboard … _

He sighed. Well, as it seemed the spider hadn't just grown old and died.

_A place that definitely was some sort of living room … Vernon Dursley, kneeling beside the fireplace … one hand that held the spider with thongs into the fire … another hand holding the boy in place so he had to watch …_

The Potions Master sighed in frustration. Whenever he thought he had the boy at a point where he understood and could act and react to the boy's best interest, whenever he thought they made progress, then he learned of new horrors.

Well, at least now he understood. Of course the boy wouldn't want to have another animal. Growing attached to an animal – even if it was just a common spider that meant company in the boy's lonely life at the Dursley's – with the knowledge it would be killed as soon as the guardian found out, that wasn't a really good idea and Harry had learned it the hard way.

Herbaceous came back with the owl treats and a package with owl food in his hands, a smile on his face, but the smile faded as soon as his dark brown eyes took in the Potions Master kneeling in front of the boy and he stopped in his steps, placing the packages onto the counter. He knew Severus long and good enough that he knew he better didn't interrupt now. So he just got a glass of water and waited, watching his friend's back and the child's pained and terrified face and he had to close up his mind from blocking the images the boy sent out. From the look of it the boy didn't do this intentionally, it was an accident and it wasn't his place to stumble over this child's memories.

Yet - he had seen a picture of a dying spider and even if he didn't know what the picture meant his gaze went over to the bat that still was hunched on the counter and he only could guess that the animal had been the cause to the boy's fear. He knew that the animal hadn't attacked the boy. None of his animals attacked. Not without a reason and surely not children. But from the way Severus acted, the Potions Master had entered the boy's mind and thus he guessed that the bat had triggered an old memory. Probably a memory containing a spider.

Wordlessly he extended his hand towards the small, black animal and when the bat clung to his fingers he placed it onto a shelf out of the boy's eyesight. Better be on the safe side. The boy would only be startled again when he was back with them and saw the bat again.

Severus gave a sad sigh away and slowly reached out, placing his hands gently onto Harry's shoulders and pulling the child closer, folding his arms around the small shoulders and holding the skinny body against his chest. He tried to ignore the trembling and the shivers that shook the lithe form and that made his chest tighten painfully.

"Easy, child." He whispered. "You do not have to. It only was a suggestion, nothing more and I can understand your refusal. It was a cruel and inhuman thing to do of your uncle and no child should go through such. But that isn't new to you, is it?"

He continued just speaking to the boy, knowing that it wasn't really important what he said, knowing that only the tone he used just now was important and even if the thin body still shook in his arms he felt that the boy at least slowly came back to reality.

Holding Harry with one strong arm he reached with the other hand into his robes and pulled out the vial with the calming draught. Half a vial hopefully would be enough to calm the boy. He still didn't want to give him too much potions and he'd had a dose already during lunch.

As soon as he had the vial uncorked and placed at Harry's lips the boy stiffened even more and a look of horror crossed his face as – at least Severus thought so – another memory seemed to cross his mind and with wide and fearful eyes he slowly shook his head, trying to get away from the strong arm that held him and yet again the Potions Master was reminded at the beginning of all this, when Harry – back in his office – had refused to take the calming draught.

Gritting his teeth in frustration he resisted the urge to sigh or to close his eyes for a moment. Just like back then Harry was in a full blown panic attack, not knowing where exactly he was or what was going on around him and he had to get the boy to drink the potion, he hadn't time to get his own feelings back under control at first.

So he did what he had done back then and turned the boy in his grip, not even acknowledging that a gentle hand took the vial out of his fingers so he could shift Harry better, he would thank Herbaceous later when he had time for it.

"Easy, child." He soothed. "You will be quite fine, trust me, Harry. I am not angry at you, just try to calm down and try to relax. The potion will help you with that, you just have to take it. It is nothing else than the calming draught you already know. You have had this one a few times up to now. You even have helped me to brew this one, remember, child?"

Of course he got no answer, he didn't even know if the boy really had heard him, but that wasn't important either and he knew it. He just had to keep up a stream of words, while he shifted Harry so he had the boy's back pressed against his chest and gripped both still much too thin wrists in one of his hands and then he extended his hand towards the other man to take back the potion while another memory came to his mind. The memory of a small body that lay on his arm, small fingers trying to grip at his arm while he wrapped the tiny form into a blanket, carefully not to accidentally break the miniature limbs or to let the newborn fall.

Once again he had to force himself onto the present and the task at hand and he inwardly berated himself. Of course he knew why he now had such problems, letting his feelings get in the way. The other abused children in his house never were as close as Harry was. Not only was Harry Lily's child, but he had known Harry from his very first day, he had been the one present at the boy's birth and he had seen him at least twice a week during the boy's first 15 month.

It was only understandable that he now felt more for this child than the other children in his house. Nevertheless he could not afford to struggle with such just now.

So he forced himself to ignore the boy's struggling and squirming, to ignore the boy's attempts to get away from him, to defend himself and he forced himself to ignore the desperate sobs from the child he held pressed against his chest and instead pressed the vial onto the boy's lips and forced his mouth open, dipped the bottom of the vial upwards and poured the liquid into the boy's mouth, all the while whispering unimportant words and sentences in the child's ear.

"Hush, child." He whispered while he clasped his hand over the boy's mouth and nose to force him to swallow the potion. "It's alright, child. I won't hurt you and I will release you as soon as you swallowed the potion. We have been through this before and you know you will be alright. Just swallow the potion and I will release you. I promise. You have my word, child. Just trust me and swallow it."

For Severus it seemed to be an eternity until Harry finally had swallowed the potion and immediately he released the boy's mouth and placed his hand on his forehead, pressing the child's head against his shoulder, securing it there and he sighed in relieve.

He hated it to cause Harry more pain than he already felt, never mind if it was physical pain or mental pain. And he definitely _had _caused him mental pain just now.

"Hush, child." He whispered, his voice rough. "Everything is alright. You are quite fine. Just a moment and you will feel better, I promise. Just take deep breathes and you will be fine. It is not the first time we are here, you can do this. Just breathe steadily."

He continued just talking to the boy, taking the glass of water that Herbaceous reached towards him, waiting until Harry had calmed down enough so he would understand it was plain water he offered him.

Well, he knew that Harry had calmed down enough as soon as the boy gave away his most used sign. "I'm sorry."

"There is no need to be, child." Severus said. "You were tired, exhausted and out of your safe environment. It was only plain that you would end up with a panic attack sooner or later. What was the exact reason why I brought the calming draught in the first place. I knew it would happen. So there is no problem with that."

The unsure headshake and the fearful eyes Harry gave away clearly showed him, the boy didn't believe a word he said and he again had to refuse closing his eyes. It was not over yet, he knew it. He still had to keep his concentration on the boy.

"Drink this, Harry." He softly said. "It is only plain water, nothing else and it will do you good, child."

Well, he had thought the boy would refuse the water as well as he had the potion, never mind the fact that Harry had calmed down a bit by now. But Harry reached up a trembling hand to take the water, drinking a few small sips while he leaned back against Severus, exhausted beyond his limits.

"Get the boy home, Severus." A dark voice beside him whispered and the Potions Master turned his head towards Herbaceous. "I will bring over the owl treats later if you don't mind having me around for a glass of your Ogden's. Use the floo."

"Thank you, Herbaceous." The Potions Master simply nodded towards the shop owner, taking the glass from Harry's still trembling hand and reaching it back to the man beside him. He stood, pulling Harry with him and for another moment he wrapped his arms around the thin shoulders until he could be sure the boy could stand on his own two legs without dropping.

He knew that Herbaceous was right. The floo was the quickest way home as they wouldn't have to walk over Hogwarts grounds and through the castle. But Harry never before had travelled with floo and he wasn't sure if the boy would manage it. Especially without him so close after the panic attack that was not even completely over yet.

He eyed the fireplace quickly, and noticing that it was a rather large one, he made his mind up. He shortly nodded towards Herbaceous once more and then gripped Harry's shoulders, gently shoving him over to the grate.

He turned Harry so he stood with his face towards him, lifted him up into his arms and simply sat him onto his hip so he could carry him more easily, just as he had done so often, years ago. Well, the boy wasn't as small anymore as he had been back then, but somehow he still fit into his arms.

"Hush, child." Severus whispered when Harry struggled against him for a moment, clearly startled and afraid of his actions, and Severus' anger against the Dursleys woke anew. The boy surely never had been held by them, he didn't know what Severus wanted of him, why he did this, nor how he should react to this. This was as alien to the boy as had been eating or sleeping in a bed, and he simply was afraid.

"This might frighten you, Harry, but trust me, you won't be burnt." He explained, taking a handful of the floo powder that stood on the mantelpiece. "We simply will travel home by floo. We will be home in a moment and there you can rest."

He threw the floo powder into the fire, called out "Hogwarts, Severus Snape's quarters" and then gripped the boy tighter to his chest, placing one hand on the back of Harry's head, pulling the boy's head closer against his shoulder so his face was covered in his robes and safe from the ashes.

"Hold your breath for a moment." He said just before he stepped into the fire.

He felt the boy in his arms stiffen for a moment before Harry struggled in his arms, trying to get away from him, trying to lift his head off his shoulder and the next moment he stepped out of the fireplace with a struggling boy in his arms.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry allowed the Professor to lead him towards the fireplace, wondering what the older wizard had in mind. Maybe he wanted to show him that there were no spiders in there? It would be the thing Professor Snape would do. He always seemed to know what to do to ease his fears. But honestly, he knew that there were no spiders in there. This shop owner sold animals. He surely would not kill them like uncle Vernon had done.

But then Professor Snape turned him and lifted him up and after a moment in which he was startled, tried to struggle, he recognized that the older wizard didn't mean to harm him and he allowed the man to hold him and to pull his head against his shoulder, even if he didn't understand why the Professor did this.

He didn't understand what Professor Snape meant when he told him he wouldn't be burnt either. Of course he wouldn't be burnt, this was a simple fire that was in the hearth, the building wasn't burning, nor was anything else. He just was glad that the Professor was taking him home and he wrapped his arms around the man's neck, seeking more closeness, more comfort this closeness offered and more safety.

The Professor threw something into the fire, said something to which he didn't really pay any attention to as he was busy savoring the moment of peace he felt while his head rested on the man's shoulder. He felt safe. Never before had he been held thus and suddenly he felt just and simply safe.

"Hold your breath for a moment." He heard the Professor's words and instinctively he did as he was told, but then the Professor stepped into the fire and …

Again he could see the spider, dying, folding its legs over its body, again he felt the panic he had felt back then, and again he felt …

They couldn't step into the fire!

Professor Snape surely wouldn't do such a foolish thing!

He wanted to shake his head, to sign the man that he shouldn't – that he couldn't – step into the fire. But Professor Snape still held him against his chest and he just couldn't move.

He wanted to scream, to tell him that they would burn, that they would die, just as the spider had died, but he couldn't bring his voice to work, not even for a scream.

He tried to struggle away, maybe he just could shove the older wizard out of the fire in time before they burnt, but still he was held in this tight and strong grip.

And then suddenly the world around him turned, spun around itself and for a moment he didn't know what was upside and what was downside. He felt the grip of his guardian's arms tighten and he resigned himself to the inevitable. He stopped struggling, maybe it was the best this way, but he couldn't stop himself from sobbing into the black robes.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus stepped out of the fireplace, knowing that the child he held was far from alright, even if the boy had stopped his struggling. He didn't bother to place Harry onto his feet but quickly made his way over to the nearest armchair and simply shifted him so he could sit down, still pressing the small form against his chest.

He had received images, flashes of pictures, of a dying spider, of a smaller Harry accidentally burning his hands while standing on a stool and cooking, of Petunia swinging a hot pan towards his shoulder, his arm, of Vernon Dursley, shoving the boy towards the fireplace, of a boy trying to shove him – Severus – away from the fire, and he had received emotions, fear, panic, terror, so raw he nearly could feel them bodily and he suddenly had understood his mistake.

How could he have been so stupid?

How could he have been so foolishly stupid?

Using the floo when he knew, when he had _seen _the boy's memories, the spider that Harry had seen as his familiar, the same spider that had been killed in the fire by his uncle, the man holding Harry in place so the child had to watch …

How could he have been so foolishly stupid?

Of course the boy would be afraid of the fire.

Severus sat there for a long time, just holding the small form of the child in his arms, running his fingers up and down the thin spine, knowing that this kind of touch calmed the boy more quickly than anything else as he couldn't give him another calming draught yet.

And it wasn't necessary either. They were in their safe environment at home and if Harry had a panic attack or a mental breakdown here, they easily could deal with that.

"You know, child, I really am very proud of you." He whispered while his fingers played unconsciously with each backbone, feeling each backbone join the next one, feeling the small form underneath his hands shake with silent sobs. "You have been away from our safe quarters for the first time, for hours too, and you really have managed this greatly, better than I have feared you would. I am really proud of you. And I am sorry, child, for using the floo network to get you home. I should have known better and just apparated us to Hogwarts grounds."

Well, he would have had to carry a still frightened child through the castle and into the dungeons, risking the students seeing him while he carried the boy like a small child, but honestly, he didn't really mind that right now.

It was one thing to keep his reputation up, but it was another thing to do what the child needed. And right now he needed not a teacher that was a nasty man but a father who understood him and eased his fears, who was there to hold him when he threatened to fall into an abyss.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It took him some time of just talking to the boy, of just holding the child in his arms, but finally Harry was calm enough so he was able to breathe evenly, his sobs had stopped and Severus had felt how the boy had been relaxing bit by bit in his arms.

"I'm sorry." Was – how could it have been otherwise – the first sign the boy gave away and Severus closed his eyes. He didn't want the child apologizing for something like a panic attack. He didn't want the child apologizing at all, not for such things.

"There is no need to apologize, Harry." He said with a frustrated sigh. "I have told you so for weeks now, but I guess I will have to tell you this for the rest of your life. There is no need to apologize for things like nightmares, not for being afraid, not for being ill and surely not for having a panic attack. There is no need to apologize neither for eating, nor for drinking or sleeping and there is no need to apologize for being a child that never had gotten proper care. And surely there is no need to apologize for finally getting said needed attention and care. There is no need at all to apologize for thinks that are essential for a child's well-being."

There was a long pause during which the boy simply rested his side against the Potions Master's chest, his head resting on his shoulder and he ran his hand through the mop of meanwhile shoulder length black hair, neither of them talking or moving, both of them simply enjoying the peace their quarters meant for them.

He nearly had forgotten time and space when he finally noticed Harry stirring in his arms, giving signs away and he nearly gasped when he finally recognized _what_ the boy had signed. Not because of the fact that the boy had thanked him, he had known Harry would, he always did when getting something or being helped.

No. it was the sign he normally used for him, referring to him as his teacher.

Only that this time the sign was different. This time the sign was tied together with another one. With the sign for 'father'.

Professor Snape's dark eyes seemed to pierce him, he bodily could feel those dark eyes stabbing him and for a moment he wondered why. What had he done? Why was the Professor so angry at him? Or was he angry? He didn't look like uncle Vernon who always had been angry at him.

There was no vain throbbing on his neck, nor on his forehead. His face was not red with anger and those dark eyes that pierced him were not harsh, not blazing with fury. They were not narrowed at him, they just watched him. And the man's face wasn't twisted in anger either. He didn't seem to be angry at him. But then, what …

Oh, oh …

He had used the sign. The sign he had came up with the evening before. The sign he hadn't planned to actually use anytime soon. Not for the next few days at least.

He had known this would go wrong. He had known it. How could he have been so stupid to come up with a personal sign for the Professor in the first place? And how could he have been so stupid to actually use this sign then? How could he have been so stupid to think the Professor wouldn't recognize it? How could he have been so stupid to …

Severus watched the boy close, not sure what to think.

Had the boy really created a new sign for him to refer to him not only as his teacher but as his father?

Well, the sign definitely proved – the boy had.

For a moment he wondered why, he actually wondered what reason Harry might have had to create a sign that contained the word father. For a moment he actually questioned the boy's intentions, his sanity and even his …

He blinked, something he rarely did.

Did he really have to wonder why?

Wasn't the sign itself prove enough?

Hadn't the boy asked this of him? Hadn't Harry proven that he actually wanted him as his father? And hadn't he already promised the child that he would fulfil this role? Hadn't he filled the adoption papers and sent them to the ministry?

This was nothing he didn't want by himself. This was nothing he hadn't been prepared for.

He just hadn't thought that Harry really had been ready for this step. He hadn't even been sure if the boy had been really confident with this, if he really knew what this meant. If he really _wanted_ this, really and actually _wanted_ this.

How could the boy want to have him, old, grumpy and snarky Potions Master, former Death Eater and dark man as his father? How could the boy want him, the most hated teacher at Hogwarts as his father?

His eyes softened a tad, growing even darker in the process while he took hold of the boy's wrists before he could apologize. He didn't know how long the boy had had this sign in his mind, but from the startled look on Harry's face he knew that he had not intended to actually use it and that an apology would follow.

Harry wasn't sure what he should think of his guardian's facial expressions. It wasn't as blank as it normally was. There were different emotions playing on the older wizards face. First shock, then curiosity, and then his eyes actually softened. It was one of the very few times the man actually allowed his face to show what he felt and he wasn't sure what it meant. He only knew that the emotions must have been strong that he actually could make them out in the normally so indifferent face.

Well, maybe he best apologized before he was in trouble, and maybe he best promised the man that he never again would use it. He shouldn't have done so in the first place.

Yes – he had come up with the sign, because he had thought it was necessary. But after that it had been enough for him to know he had it, there was no need to actually use it.

And yet he had done so and it had been a mistake. A great mistake.

He was just about to lift his hands to do so when Professor Snape took his wrists and stopped him, holding them tightly in his hands. The expression on his face was strange and he didn't know what it meant. Never before had he seen a look like this. Not on aunt Petunia and surely never on uncle Vernon and neither on Professor McGonagall or someone else.

"Don't even think of apologizing, young man." Severus growled, his gaze still on Harry with an intensity that – together with the growl – made the boy getting uncomfortable. "Don't even think about it. There is no reason to and I won't have it. I just wonder what reason for you did hide this sign. You should know …"

He closed his eyes for a moment before he opened them and his gaze had become sad.

"No, maybe you couldn't know." He continued, his voice as sad as his dark eyes. "But let me assure you, you do not need to hide it. And you are allowed to use it. I just was startled, that is all. But you are allowed to use it, and to use it openly without hiding the sign between others, son."

He released Harry's wrists encase the boy wanted to answer something to that, but nothing came. Harry looked everywhere but at him. The fireplace especially seemed to be very interesting, as were his hands, as was the door and the table, even the floor.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Dinner had been a silent affair, but it had not been an uncomfortable silence, it just had been a silence in which both had savoured the company of the other. The child the safety it always felt in the presence of the adult and the older wizard the peace he felt in the boy's presence, the knowledge he was needed.

And now they were sitting in front of the large fireplace on the rug.

Severus had left the living area for a moment and when he had been back he had found Harry sitting on the rug in front of the large fireplace. He hadn't thought he would find the boy near a fire so shortly after the encounter in Herbaceous' shop, the memories he had seen and then flooing back to his quarters. Harry really had no good memories when it came to fire he had learned that day. And yet the boy sat there in front of the dancing flames and he seemed to be relaxed, nearly mesmerized by the flames.

He seated himself beside the boy, leaning his back against the armchair that stood behind him, placing his arm around Harry's shoulder and pulling the boy close until he leaned against his side.

Harry cautiously looked up at the older wizard, trying to read his face, but he couldn't detect the emotions that were hidden behind the mask the man always wore. He just could see that the Professor seemed to be lost in thoughts while he stared at the fire.

Slowly he lifted his hand to touch the Potions Master's hand, just for a short second, before he quickly, nearly startled, pulled his hand back. It was the first time he actually touched the Professor to gain his attention rather than being comforted and he wasn't sure if it was alright to disturb the man in his thoughts just because he wanted something.

But before he actually could pull his hand away a gentle hand settled on his own, holding it in place.

"Anything special on your mind, Harry?" Severus asked silently when the boy allowed himself to relax under the touch.

"No." Harry shook his head. "I just …"

"You just what?" Severus asked when it was clear that the boy wouldn't continue.

"I just … I wanted … I …"

"You wanted what, Harry?" Severus asked again. "Remember, child. You are allowed to ask questions and you are allowed to tell me what is on your mind. I wish you to tell me what bothers you and to address what you want to address me with."

"I just wanted … to thank you, sir. For everything." Harry slowly signed. "I mean … you … I don't know how to explain … just … just thank you."

For a short moment Harry was afraid that Professor Snape was angry at him. He knew that the man didn't want him to apologize and that he didn't want him to thank him for minor things. But he still wasn't sure what exactly minor things were. And he still wasn't sure what was alright with the Professor, how far he could go or when he leaned out of the window just too far.

But then the older wizard looked at him and there was something in his black eyes. Something that Harry wasn't able to name, something that Harry wasn't sure what exactly the emotion was, just that it wasn't the anger he had expected.

"You are welcome, child." Severus softly said. "In the past, Harry, you may not have had people who cared properly for you. Neither with food and other things you needed like clothes and books nor with affection or attention and pride. But now you do have someone who cares for you."

Harry looked into the dancing flames for a while and strangely he felt more relaxed with his guardian than he had ever felt before at all.

"I did not think that you would be so comfortable sitting in front of the fire." Severus finally murmured, curiosity taking over.

"I'm not afraid of the fire." Harry slowly signed, unsure how to explain it. "I just … I … I don't know how to explain it. It is … it is calming, at least when my aunt or uncle are not around. You wouldn't … I mean …"

Harry broke off, casting his eyes down and Severus couldn't suppress a sigh.

"No, I would not harm you, child." He said, placing his fingertips under the boy's chin and pulling his head up so he had to look at him. "Neither with fire, nor with anything else. You are safe here."

Harry just nodded, not sure what kind of answer he should give to that, not sure what kind of answer he even _could_ give to that.

Once again, just as it had happened in the morning, he remembered the first two days, the coldness and the loathing the man had displayed towards him. But that was weeks ago now. And surely the Professor wouldn't act like this anymore. Would he?

"Ready for bed, Harry?" Severus asked, noticing the far away look on the boy's face and he studied the small face closely.

Harry was a child that was a master in wearing a mask. Normally. And he was just able to look behind this mask through the boy's eyes or through moments of weakness when this mask slipped for a moment. But sometimes, more often than not lately, he could read the boy's face.

The more Harry relaxed around him, the more comfortable he felt with him, the more he allowed his emotions to be displayed on his face, at least in his presence. Not so when Minerva was around him, but when he – Severus – was around him.

The boy stood, wincing while he did so and the Potions Master shook his head. He had known this would happen. Harry was stiff and achy from the day's tension and stress.

"Get ready for bed, Harry." He said, a mixture of amusement and worry in his voice. "I will be in your room in fifteen minutes and we will see what we can do for your sore muscles."

While under the shower Harry thought about the day and about the situation he was in.

Not that it was the first time he thought about the situation he was in, he did so nearly every evening when he laid in his bed and tried to sleep. And every evening he came to the same conclusion. It was either a dream or his luck would end soon. It just was too good to last forever and he knew that he hadn't such luck.

The jets of water that hit his body under the shower didn't hurt anymore like they had done back at the beginning of the school year. And he could relax under the water much more than back then. But – could that really last? Was there any chance that this could continue? Well, he rather didn't think so. At any chance he was back at Privet Drive at the end of the term. No matter what the Professor said.

But then – yesterday – Professor Snape had told him he would fulfil the role as his father. And today, he hadn't been angry at him when he had used the sign he had came up with. In the contrary. The Potions Master had told him he was allowed to use it, and to use it openly, that he didn't have to hide it within his other signs. And that surely meant that Professor Snape really would be his father? Why otherwise would the man allow him to use this sign?

He quickly wrapped himself into one of the large towels that the Professor always kept on a lower board in the shelf for him. He had told him he didn't want him to climb up the shelves to reach the towels and the washcloths and the other things he would need and then he had emptied one of the lower shelves and had placed towels, washcloths, his pyjamas and other things he needed in there.

Not only had he never had the chance to take a shower twice a day before, but never had anyone cared enough for him to have a towel or a pyjama. He always had dressed in one of Dudley's old shirts for the night. And surely never before had anyone went through the trouble of emptying a shelf so he had one to place his things in he actually could reach.

Still lost in thoughts he left the shower and entered his room. His shoulders, his arms and his back still ached from the tension he had build up earlier throughout the day.

"Problems with your back?" Severus asked as soon as Harry entered his room where he had placed a second blanket on the boy's bed. During the past two hours a storm had build outside and it was going to be a cold night. He knew that Harry still was too thin, there was nothing on him to keep him warm and the boy still had trouble to keep his own body heat up. He would need the second blanket.

Harry seemed startled for a moment, but he didn't flinch away from him this time. He nodded and the Potions Master beckoned him over.

"Well, lay onto your stomach and we will see if I can help with that." Severus said and the boy did so. There was a look on Harry's face Severus couldn't really name and he lifted his eyebrow, but he didn't say anything yet, waited if the boy would begin of his own.

Harry had made great progress in addressing what he wanted. There were still times during which he didn't dare to tell him what was on his mind, what he feared, what he wanted to ask, but most of the time he did so meanwhile and Severus was – yes, he was proud of the boy. Of _his _boy.

For any other child such might have been something absolutely normal, but not for Harry and in doing so he proved just how much he had begun to trust him. And even if he didn't allow himself to really acknowledge it, but within the stone that was his heart, he was proud of the boy, and really affected somehow that the brat trusted him.

Severus went over to the bed, sat onto the mattress beside Harry and with a flick of his wand he had vanished the pyjamas top.

The boy turned his head towards him, startled, but the Potions Master smirked at the boy with amusement glittering in his dark eyes.

"Magic really can be fun sometimes." He said, chuckling before he grew serious again. "Do not worry, child. The top will be back in place as soon as I am finished here." He added when he felt Harry's fear didn't lessen. He poured a bit of the massage potion he had brewed onto his palm, rubbed his hands together so the oil wouldn't be cold and began to gently run his hands over the bony shoulders, kneading the few muscles there, careful to not apply too much pressure on the still so delicate body of the child.

"You are still not ready for classes and the all-day live within the castle yet, but you are on your best way, I might say. You have gained weight and your injuries are healed." He said while working his way over the boy's back. "A few weeks earlier, I feared to break your bones whenever I touched you."

'I'm sorry, sir.' Harry wrote onto the notebook he always kept on the side of his mattress, close enough so he always could reach it without trouble. The boy never expressed much words, neither with his signs nor with his writings. But somehow he always felt the need of being able to do so and kept the book with the signs, his notebook and his pencil close.

"Do not be, child." Severus gently scolded. "It is not your fault. I rather wonder –" He stopped his movements for a moment, thinking how to address his question, before he continued to knead the boy's lower back. "I know why you did not address me with the abuse you had to endure at your aunt's and uncle's hands. But what I wondered about since some time now, did you really think you would have managed this all by your own? Did you really think you would have managed to survive this all by your own?"

'I've always managed.' The boy simply wrote and Severus sighed.  
"Yes, you have always managed, Harry. Even if it was not what should have been. But honestly, child, you would not have managed it this time." He began massaging one of the still too thin legs before he continued speaking. "I know that you still do not see it this way. But you would have died under our very noses."

For a moment he wasn't able to continue speaking and a knot seemed to settle itself in his chest, in his throat, seemed to steel his breath away and he actually had to swallow, to force himself to breath a few times to get himself back under control, to get his emotions back under control again. The very thought of losing this child was more painful than the cruciatus itself, even if he knew that back then he had hated the boy and without him noticing the abuse he never would have seen beyond his believes of Harry being a spoiled prince. He would not have missed him back then.

Then again – if the boy had died because he had not seen the signs of abuse, he never would have forgiven himself.

"It is a mute point now." The Potions Master finally sighed. "But never mind what, I am glad that I have noticed. I would miss you, brat, and I never want to lose you."

The boy didn't answer to that, but he didn't expect an answer either.

A few minutes passed and Severus was running his hands over Harry's arms meanwhile, kneading them as gently as always before he replaced the top on the boy's upper body.

"Sir?" Harry unsurely signed, turning on his bed and sitting up when Severus was about to place the massage oil onto the nightstand.

"Yes?" The Potions Master turned towards the boy, his head lowered to one side.

"I'm sorry because I was so … so … like a baby … today."

Severus lifted his eyebrow at the boy before sighing.

"You have not been 'like a baby', Harry." He said, gently growling. "Your reactions today have been more than tolerable. I have feared worse when I took you to Diagon Alley, and I have to say – I am proud of you. You did unexpectedly well."

"But … but … I … I should not have been afraid of you, sir." Harry signed, nearly curling in into himself. "I mean … I do trust you, sir. And … and I'm not afraid of you anymore. But … but … I don't understand …"

Suppressing a sigh he knew he could give away later when he was alone he sat back onto the adge of the mattress and took the boy's hands into his to stop him from further searching for words.

"Do you really think that nearly ten years of fear could be undone by five or six weeks of safety? As I told you, you did well today and I do not want to see a sign against it, Mr. Potter. And now you better place your head on that pillow of yours before I decide to give you a detention for being up after curfew. And yes, it is already that late."

Harry did what he was told and laid down, curled into a small ball on his side as always, a small smile on his face and Severus felt the same warmth spread through him as it did always whenever the boy smiled. Not that this happened often, but as it was so rarely, it made it so precious. He spread the thinner extra blanket over the boy before he covered him with his regular, with the thicker blanket he normally used.

"It is going to be a cold night." The Potions Master explained when the boy tipped his head up to look at the Professor with a questioningly gaze and he nearly had to laugh at his own actions. He knew the boy so well meanwhile he understood him even if he didn't write or sign his questions. Most of the time at least. "A storm has set in two hours ago. Don't be startled if you hear the storm or thunder tonight. And if you are afraid, then do not hesitate to come and get me, do you understand, child?"

His gaze serious he waited until the boy nodded and then he stood up.

"Good. Good night, Harry." He said, turning, smiling when he – just out of the corners of his eyes – noticed the boy signing his own good night, as if he didn't dare to do so when he looked.

"Good night, father."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus kept the boy's door ajar as always, knowing the boy didn't like his door being closed, knowing the reason why, and he easily accepted this small whish. He didn't mind if the boy's door was open and he didn't mind to allow anything that would set the boy's mind at ease, that helped him coping with what has been done to him.

And he would keep his own door ajar tonight as well, just in case the boy got up to get him when the storm would wake him. It could be possible, with the unknown sounds of the storm, that the boy would be disorientated and afraid. And besides, the boy could move as silent as a cat and he wasn't sure if the wards he still kept on Harry's room to alert him if the boy woke in the middle of the night, would withstand the storm. Normally they did, but one never knew when it came to magic combined with the elementary …

Stopping mid step he turned and narrowed his eyes at the child's door. The boy still had not managed to intentionally handle speechless magic. But maybe …

Maybe he had a solution …

It wouldn't be easy, it even could be dangerous, and he knew that he bordered a branch of magic forbidden to be taught at Hogwarts. But honestly, it was worth a try. He just had to keep thousands of eyes on the boy instead of just two …

Maybe he should go over it with Minerva. He knew Albus wouldn't allow it. But he was nearly sure that Minerva would.

And if the boy managed …

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Who exactly is Herbaceous? And how will Harry react to a thunderstorm?_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter as well ... thank you


	28. Herbaceous

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Yes – it's not here, this time either … the annoying little note … .oO( … how shocking …) …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_It wouldn't be easy, it even could be dangerous, and he knew that he bordered a branch of magic forbidden being taught at Hogwarts. But honestly, it was worth a try. He just had to keep thousands of eyes on the boy instead of just two … _

_Maybe he should go over it with Minerva. He knew Albus wouldn't allow it. But he was nearly sure that Minerva would. And if the boy managed … _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter twenty-eight**

**Herbaceous**

His thoughts were interrupted by the flaring of the flames and Severus turned again, this time towards the fireplace, just now remembering that Herbaceous wanted to floo over.

The black haired man's head sat in the fire, looking at him questioningly. "It's ok, if I come over? Or is it inappropriate now?" He asked with his deep voice and Severus nodded.

A few seconds later the shop owner of Eeyelop's stepped out of the fireplace and smiling he reached the packages towards the Potions Master. "Good evening, Severus." He greeted.

"Herbaceous." Severus nearly smiled at the man, taking the packages and extending his hand towards one of the armchairs. He placed them on the sideboard while the man took his seat and then turned towards the locked cabinet that stood in one of the corners and with a nearly lazy wave of his hand he unlocked it. He took a bottle and two glasses out of the cabinet and with another wave of his hand the cabinet was locked again.

Herbaceous watched the Potions Master with his dark eyes, lifted his eyebrows towards the ajar door that led to Severus' guest chamber and a small smile crossed his face that made the otherwise hard features soft and warm.

He was not an overly large man. Not small, and surely not too slim either. He rather was of an average size and appearance, but his harsh face made him a bit scary. As did his dark hair, eyes and clothes, not unlikely Severus'. Yet – neither were his eyes of that deep black colour than Severus' were, rather a dark brown, nor was he as harsh and as indifferent as the Potions Master was. And he was not as scary either.

His wife always said he looked good, but he knew that he didn't and Amelie only had married him because of his good-natured heart and not because of his good looks.

"A strange sight, Severus, your cabinet being locked." He said, knowing well why the Potions Master had locked his whiskey and other liqueurs away. Severus was too much a responsible man so he wouldn't allow an eleven year old child accidentally getting to his liqueurs. And he was sure his laboratory would be locked too now.

"With a child residing in your quarters, you too surely would lock away dangerous material, Herbaceous." Severus said.

"You think so?" The man asked, chuckling. "I guess, I would wait until the boy found the alcohol. It would be funny to have a drunken child around."

Smiling Severus shook his head while he poured some Ogden's into the two glasses and Herbaceous noticed that he poured himself less than two fingers while the glass the Potions Master reached towards him held three fingers of the drink.

"And much more funny to have an ill child during the night and the next day." Severus smirked at him, lifting his glass at him before he took a small sip.

"Ah, that for I have Amelie." Herbaceous silently laughed. "I would have _her_ to deal with the ill child then."

"Of course you would." Severus lifted his eyebrow, showing that he clearly didn't believe a word the man said.

He knew Herbaceous since he had been a child, had often found a safe refuge with the man and his wife when his own father had beaten him too much and he knew that the man would lock his dangerous things away as well. In fact, he had done so from the very first time he, Severus, had visited them, and he had kept his cabinet locked until he had been old enough and Herbaceous had given him a glass with two fingers of Ogden's one night.

His eyes grew distant for a moment when he remembered this one night and a pained expression crossed his face.

He had been running all the way over to the man, desperate and …

**Flashback**

_It hadn't happened. It surely hadn't happened. It couldn't have happened. _

_And yet – the pain he felt and the shame he felt and the fear he felt, the desperation he felt were prove enough that it definitely __**had **__happened. _

_He didn't know how he had been able to move, how he had been able to leave the house, nor how he had managed it to run towards Herbaceous' house. The only thing he knew was, he needed the man now. He desperately needed this man, his calm words, the comfort he always offered and the knowledge that there was at least one single person on this earth that cared. _

_Well, two persons in fact. He knew that Amelie cared as much as Herbaceous cared. But that was not the same._

_It always was Herbaceous who simply pulled him close and held him until he was calm enough so he could care for the injuries his father had caused. And it always was Herbaceous who simply ordered him to eat and then led him on his shoulder towards his guest chamber so he had at least one good night's sleep. _

_Amelie always was the one who told him the next morning during breakfast that he had to stay a few days more. But he always refused._

_He knew that both, Amelie and Herbaceous wouldn't mind him staying. But he knew that both of them soon would be tired of him. He was a bad person, he always had been. And he didn't want to lose those two persons by being a burden to them. It was enough that he always ran to them when his father beat him up whenever he was drunk or …_

_He better didn't think of it right now._

_He had enough to deal with, just right now._

_Herbaceous opened the front door even before he had a chance to knock and after one look at him the older wizard's face darkened and wordlessly he pulled him inside on his arm, led him towards the sofa and forced him down. He watched him for a moment longer, his dark eyes piercing his own until he growled darkly, turned and left the living room. _

_For a moment Severus was sure that it had been a mistake to come here, that it was this one time too often and … _

_And he knew that Herbaceous had seen, that this man had seen what his father … _

_Curling into himself he buried his face in his hands and tried to suppress a sob that threatened to escape him. Herbaceous had seen … _

_A hand on his shoulder startled him and he jumped into an upright position, sure that Herbaceous would scold him now and then throw him out, telling him he didn't want him coming back ever again as he was dirty and …_

_"Don't even start to think such thoughts, Severus." The man said, reaching a glass towards him. "Drink this."_

_It had sounded like a friendly request, but Severus knew that it was an order and he took the glass. Alone the smell of it confirmed him that it was alcohol and remembering his father's drunken state he was about to place the glass on the table but Herbaceous placed his hand on his arm, stopping him. _

_"Drink – it – Mr. Snape!" The older wizard growled darkly and Severus couldn't help flinching, causing Herbaceous' face to soften immediately. _

_"One glass of Ogden's finest won't make you to an admiral on the red, Severus." Herbaceous growled. "But it will at least numb you enough so you will be able to sleep tonight. And now get your shirt off."_

_Severus slowly did as the older wizard had told him and pulled his shirt off before he took a sip of the whiskey. _

_Immediately he __coughed, nearly spitting the burning liquid over the table that stood in front of him and he had to gasp for breath while he had to suppress tears that suddenly stung to his eyes, the liquid burning in his throat all the way down to his stomach._

_But then the warmth that spread through his stomach really made him relax a bit and he didn't even mind Herbaceous cleaning the cuts on his shoulder and the side of his back where the chair had hit him before the furniture had broken apart._

_"What had it been this time?" Herbaceous asked while he applied a healing salve over the now clean cuts._

_"A chair." Severus murmured and the older wizard huffed angrily._

_"I really would appreciate it if you finally took Amelie's offer and stay here before you end up dead one day, Severus." He growled. "You won't be able to come over if you are dead, you know?"_

_"I will survive it." The younger wizard murmured, lowering his head. _

_"As you will survive being raped by this bastard?" Herbaceous hissed angrily at him, his eyes blazing with fury._

_"Yes." Was all Severus was able to murmur in a shaky voice._

_"And you know this because of?" Herbaceous asked in an angry voice again and again Severus couldn't help flinching away for a moment._

_"Hush, boy." The man growled, tightening the grip he had on his shoulder. "I am not angry at you."_

_"I know." The younger wizard whispered, trying to get himself back under control. "Sorry."_

_Herbaceous huffed. "You are sorry? Your father should be sorry."_

_"It's not his fault." Severus murmured. "I was …"_

_"You better stop here right now, young man." The older wizard growled darkly, turning the younger one on his arm so he had to face him. "Don't even think into this direction. It was not your fault. Not only that you have done nothing to warrant such, but no child should go through this."_

_"I'm not a child!" Severus growled back, just so to hide the fear he felt for a moment when Herbaceous had turned him by his arm._

_"I know that you are not a child anymore. But neither are you off age yet. You are not even sixteen yet, for heaven's sake!"_

_The both of them were silent for a few moments, both of them lingering within their own thoughts until Herbaceous took the glass from the younger wizard, knowing that the boy was drunken enough to sleep throughout the night._

_"Just lay down here on the sofa and sleep, Severus." He finally murmured, forcing the teenager down onto the furniture and spreading a blanket over the boy. "Do you need anything else?"_

_Severus managed to shake his head before he closed his eyes and just did as Herbaceous had told him, to sleep, to forget._

**End flashback**

"It never had been your fault, Severus." Herbaceous' voice got him out of his thoughts and the younger of the two wizards looked at his friend.

"I know." The Slytherin said, his dark eyes steadily watching the other man. "Now I know this. I just hope the boy will learn it one day too."

"As I know you, Severus, he will learn it." Herbaceous laughed, but then he got serious and his dark eyes pierced Severus' black ones. "You love this boy, don't you?" He asked, never the one avoiding a topic or stalling for time.

"Yes, I do." The Potions Master silently answered, not even minding his admission. "More than anything else. But if you give this bit of information away to anyone, I simply will deny it."

"Of course, Mr. Snape." Herbaceous chuckled. "Never would I dare to destroy your reputation of being a bastard."

"You better do not." Severus smirked. "And it is _Professor _Snape."

"Yes, Professor Annoying." The other man nearly laughed out loud. "And now, tell me of the boy."

"You have seen him, and from your reaction, you know exactly what had happened."

"Yes, I do know." Herbaceous admitted. "I at least know that the boy had been abused in some ways. And I know that you love this boy. And that alone wakes my interest. I know that you do not love easily. And I know that you will have a hard time. When you came over the first time, you have been the same age, but you never stayed. You seem to plan on keeping this boy."

"I have filed out the adoption papers a few weeks earlier and sent them to the ministry." Severus answered, taking another sip of the whiskey.

A small gasp coming from behind made him lift his eyebrow.

"On the other hand, I am not really _that_ sure that the ministry will allow me adopting an eleven year old student that is eavesdropping." The Potions Master smirked evilly. "You know how the ministry officials from child welfare are working. They always know when a child is eavesdropping."

"Not to mention that they always know when the children are disregarding curfew."

"I know." Severus smirked. "They are very accurate when it comes to disregarding curfew."

A small squeak and silent but quick steps, caused by bare feet on a stony ground, told him that Harry quickly went back to his bed and he shook his head.

He took a deep breath and slowly released it before turning in his armchair towards the door that still was ajar.

"As you are awake anyway, Mr. Potter, you may as well come out so I can introduce you to an old friend of mine and explain to you what exactly it means what you just heard."

Another gasp was the answer and he immediately knew that the boy wondered if he really could dare to come out, if it was safe to come out and he himself wondered if he should go and speak to the child.

But then he sensed the boy standing in the doorway and upon looking up at Herbaceous and seeing the smile on his friendly face he knew that he was right.

"Come over, Mr. Potter." He said, turning towards the boy and waving his hand at him, his black eyes piercing him with a stern gaze.

Slowly Harry came over and Severus was sure he forced himself to take step for step. He looked as if he was going to pass out at every moment, his face pale and fear radiating off of his entire appearance.

"Sit." He said, pointing at the sofa.

Harry wasn't really sure what to do or what to think. He was close to tears and he knew it. At the moment he didn't even mind that there was a stranger. He just …

Damn. The Professor had told him that he was ready to adopt him, that he was ready to take over the role of being his father. He had not believed it, not really at least. But he had hoped.

Why did he always hope?

And now it won't happen because he had been so stupid and had listened to the two men.

Why was he always so stupid?

He had been sleeping. As soon as the Professor had left his room he had closed his eyes and just moments later he had been sleeping. He hadn't even been able to savour the warmth and the softness of the second blanket the Professor had covered him with before sleep had claimed him.

But then he had woken to voices in the living area and he had heard the strange voice saying that the Professor loved him and that he seemed to keep him. And then the Professor had said he had filed out the adoption papers and that he had sent them to the ministry. And then he had gasped. He just hadn't been able to restrain himself from gasping.

In that moment he had known that it hadn't just been empty words the Professor had told him but that he really would do so, that he really would adopt him, and this knowledge had been so important to him, had warmed him so much, had even made a strange feeling in his stomach, so that he hadn't been able to restrain himself from gasping. But now …

Now he had destroyed this.

The Professor would not be able to adopt him and he never would have a father and Professor Snape surely would be angry at him now because he couldn't adopt him now and …

"Stop right here, Harry." Severus said, recognizing that the boy was close to tears and immediately knowing exactly what was going through the child's head.

"First, I am not angry at you, child." He said, kneeling in front of the boy and taking two trembling hands into his own, not caring that Herbaceous saw him acting humanly instead of being a bastard. The older wizard knew him already well enough, knew all his weak spots, his insecurities, his strengths and his past, and he didn't mind. "Second, the ministry surely will not find out of your eavesdropping, nor of you disregarding curfew as long as you won't tell them. And even _if_ they found out, they would _not_ care about it as every child chooses to do exactly this at least once. You just have to learn that I do not wish you to eavesdrop as not every conversation I might have in this quarters is bound for your ears. If you hear me having a conversation with someone and you are not invited to said conversation, then I wish you to respect my privacy and to just close your ears."

"Yes, sir." The boy signed. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Apology accepted." Severus said, his dark eyes still on the child in front of him. "And I do not wish you to break curfew as you need your rest. You are still not well as I told you just an hour earlier and it is important for you to allow your body to rest. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Came the signed answer again. "I'm sorry sir."

"Again, apology accepted." Severus said, giving away a sigh when he noticed that Harry still was on the verge of tears. "What is it, child?" He gently asked, his dark eyes locked with the boy's green ones that blinked rapidly to keep the tears from falling.

"You … you … do you still … I mean … do you still want …"

Severus took the boy's hands in his to stop them from their signed stammering, knowing exactly what the boy feared.

"Nothing has changed, Harry." He said. "I still want to adopt you, I still want to have you as my son and I still want to be your father. And the ministry will not mind you eavesdropping or disregarding curfew. I only said so to startle you and to demonstrate to you that it might have been a mistake of you disobeying me."

"You mean …" Harry pulled his hands out from the larger ones that held them. He just had to know for sure. "The ministry … they will … they won't …"

"No, the ministry surely won't keep me from adopting you because of you disobeying me once in a while."

"I would like to see the ministry keeping Severus from adopting you if he wishes to do so, child." Herbaceous said, silently chuckling. "Before they would be able to, there would not be a ministry left when this man would be finished with them."

"May I introduce you to Mr. VanHarkins? He is an old friend of mine who often was of great help when I was younger." Severus finally sat onto the sofa besides Harry, knowing that the boy would feel uncomfortable if he sat into the armchair and left him alone sitting at the sofa.

"Herbaceous." The other man said smiling.

"Hello, sir." Harry waved unsurely, glad that the Professor was sitting beside him, unconsciously leaning closer to the Potions Master, seeking the safety the dark man always offered.

"Do you think you can go back to sleep after a cup of hot chocolate?" Severus asked, knowing that the boy wouldn't be able to go back to sleep just now, the shock of what he had overheard sitting too deep just now.

The boy nodded and the Potions Master quietly called the house elf and asked the small creature to bring a cup of hot chocolate for the boy.

Herbaceous had to suppress a smile while watching Severus and Harry together. The Potions Master he knew really was going soft.

Yes, he had heard the rumours that went through Diagon Alley during the years, the rumours of Severus Snape being not just a strict teacher but a bastard of a teacher. Not to mention that he knew the man personally for years now. And he knew that Severus surely never would have given a student that had disregarded curfew a cup of hot chocolate.

"Don't you even dare to laugh, Herbaceous!" Severus threatened what only caused the other man to really laugh now and the Potions Master growled at him.

A moment later Zilly came back and placed the cup with the hot chocolate onto the table and Severus reached over and took the cup, giving it to the boy, knowing that Harry wouldn't dare to move away from him to get the mug from the table with Herbaceous being present.

"How is Amelie doing?" He then asked, wanting to lead the conversation into a more safe direction as long as Harry was present, leaning against the backrest and pulling the boy close until Harry leaned with his back against his chest, only causing Herbaceous to smile again.

"Oh, she is well." The owner of Eeyelop's smiled at him. "She told me to give you her best wishes and she asked when you would come over. It has been a long time now."

"I know." The Potions Master answered. "Nearly a year now, if my memory serves me right. But honestly, between teaching all those idiotic dunderheads how to brew a potion correctly, keeping them from blowing up my classroom, and correcting essays with which they try to kill me of either boredom or annoyance … there is not much time left for a visit."

There was a startled movement and Severus looked down at the child that still was leaning against him. The boy looked at him with a frightened expression on his face but it seemed as if he didn't dare to use his hands to ask the question that bothered him in Herbaceous' presence. Yet – there was no need to. Severus knew exactly what had startled the boy and he cursed himself for the repeated slip of tongue within two days.

"And no, Mr. Potter, I surely will not die just because I read one of your fellow student's essays." He confirmed the child, tightening the grip he had around the boy's shoulder. "It merely was another figure of speech."

He watched Harry sighing with relieve and his face relaxing while he leaned his shoulder back against his side.

"I really do not dare to give this answer to Amelie, Severus." Herbaceous laughed. "She will _kill_ me if I cannot give her a date when you will come over for a visit."

Harry turned a bit and leaned with his back against the Professor's chest, getting more comfortable and just being glad that the man wasn't angry at him, glad that the Potions Master still wanted to have him. Maybe it wasn't a dream. Maybe it wasn't a mistake to hope and maybe he would be lucky just once in his life. He listened to the voices, tried to block the words out, just concentrating onto the deep rumbling in Professor Snape's chest when he spoke, a feeling that not only was funny but that calmed him in a strange way. He bodily could feel the man's voice and he closed his eyes.

The two men continued their conversation for a few minutes longer until Severus noticed the boy he held in his arms relaxing more and more against his chest and he looked down into the face of a nearly sleeping child. Their voices seemed to have dulled him into sleep again and smiling he took the nearly empty cup out of Harry's hand before it would land on either the sofa or the floor.

Harry didn't even notice it and Severus simply took a blanket from the backrest and placed the soft fabric over the boy, not wanting to wake him. Not now at least.

"I am sure Amelie wants to see the boy too." Herbaceous silently said, bringing the subject back to where it had been before Severus had led their discussion into a safer area.

"I thought as much." Severus nodded. "But to be honest, I doubt that Harry is ready for visiting anyone yet. He isn't even up to visiting classes yet. Soon, but not now. And it has been a dangerous thing to bring him to Diagon Alley today. But I had to know how he would react outside of these chambers. Not to mention the fact that he desperately needed clothes. Winter is approaching and the boy had nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"And now you are not sure if you made a mistake." Herbaceous simply stated.

Severus didn't give him an answer to that, but he didn't have to. The older wizard seemed to know him well enough.

"And how do you manage?"

"It isn't easy and I guess you know this. Just now I realize just _how much_ I have put you through. But I have help." Severus sighed.

"Stop it right here, Mr. Snape." Herbaceous growled. "Just now I wonder who of you two is worse, you or the child. You have put me through nothing I was not willing to go through."

"That might be, Herbaceous, nevertheless …"

"There is no nevertheless, Severus." Herbaceous still growled. "And now tell me of the help you have."

"McGonagall helps me teaching him some subjects and I already have introduced Flitwick too to teach him. I wouldn't be able to teach him in all the subjects added to teach him how to eat properly and do his physical exercises. He just missed too much. The boy hadn't even been able to write when he came to Hogwarts on September the first."

"Primary school?" Herbaceous asked, sure to know the answer after Severus told him he hadn't even been able to write and he huffed at the shaking of his friend's head.

"How could that has happened, Severus?" He asked. "I mean, this is not just a simple wizarding child. This is Harry Potter, the savoir of the wizarding world. Didn't the ministry have someone checking on the boy regularly?"

"The ministry had no say in this." Severus growled. "Dumbledore took him from Godric's Hollow and placed him with his muggle relatives."

"Yes, I heard as much, but surely he could not have done so without informing child welfare?"

"As far as I am informed, child welfare had been informed as the boy's relatives had gotten a monthly allowance from the ministry for the child. But I guess the headmaster used all his influence to avoid their interfering. I wonder what he had been thinking, placing the child at the doorsteps of muggles without even knowing if they would keep the boy in the first place. They could have dumped him in a trash bin for all we know. Not to mention that he never had anyone to check on the boy during the past ten years."

"You mentioned physical exercises. How serious is it really, Severus?" Herbaceous wanted to know, causing the Potions Master to huff angrily. He knew what his old friend wanted to know.

"Suffice to say is, my father had been relatively harmless compared to the boy's relatives." He growled darkly. "A few days more and he would not be sitting here, sleeping peacefully."

There were a few minutes of silence between the two wizards before Herbaceous continued the conversation.

"If I remember correctly, then someone from child welfare visits the muggle born children before school starts. Didn't they notice the abuse then?"

Severus huffed. "Albert Smith had taken the boy to Diagon Alley."

Herbaceous groaned. "They couldn't have found another imbecile?" He asked.

"Apparently not." Severus growled. "Smith got the money out of the boy's vault to buy his school supplies, took the boy to Diagon Alley without explaining anything to the boy and just dragging him along and then he dumped him back at the Dursleys. Not even having a look around."

"Yes, that's Smith. As smart as always. Had he even explained to the boy how he would managed to get on the train?"

"Honestly, I don't know." Severus growled. Another thing he hadn't thought about up to now, another thing he would have to make a mental not to, asking the boy later about it. "I only know that the boy had a backpack with him with one set of spare clothes besides of his books, his school robes, a quill and ink. Nothing more."

"Why hadn't they sent Preston? He would have had a look around and he would have had a close look on the boy too. Not to mention he would have had a look at the boy's trunk. He always does, just to ensure that they have everything they need. He knows that the muggleborn children don't know what they are expected to bring."

"We had a lot of muggle born first years this year." Severus furrowed his brow. "I guess they took whom they could get."

"Yes, but honestly – Smith?"

"I do not really know." Severus slowly said. "Somehow I am not sure if Albus did not have his hands in this too."

"What do you mean, Severus?"

"Well. I cannot really put a name to it, Herbaceous. It is just, Albus is not quite himself. When I first noticed about the abuse, well – I addressed him." The Potions Master's dark eyes grew distant as he remembered. "Poppy and I, we had been working on the boy for hours during that night. And back then we had not even been sure if he really would survive. There had been more than just one moment this night during which I feared he would die and I was furious. You know I work with my Slytherins, and thus I have seen a lot, but honestly, never before have I seen such. But Albus – well, he just accused me of exaggerating. Had Minerva not been there too, Albus would not even have allowed me to take the boy down here. And still he seemed to have other plans with the boy. He made clear that he does not care if the boy lives as long as he survives. I am not sure if Albus didn't know of the boy's torments throughout the years."

There was a short pause in which the older wizard watched the younger one, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Does Albus know that you have sent off the adoption papers?" Herbaceous finally asked.

"Yes. I have informed him of my intention, and yes, he had been against it. But I have not been foolish enough to go alone after the first few discussions I had with him concerning Harry. I have asked Minerva to meet me at Albus' office. And in the end he'd had no other choice than to agree."

"They didn't send the papers back yet, I take it?"

"Regrettably not." Severus answered. "I wish I had them back. I know that it can take up to three weeks for the papers to be sent back, sometimes even up to four weeks. I have worked with children who got adopted or taken in as foster children for long enough to know this. No other teacher had filled out statements to the child welfare concerning an adoption or something like that than I have, I guess. But that doesn't change the fact that somehow I fear that …"

"You are a teacher, Severus. And you are a head of house on a boarding school. You have a respectable job. I don't see a reason why they should refuse."

"I have been a Death Eater." Severus said, for the first time admitting his fears to someone.

"And you have been cleared." Herbaceous lifted his eyebrow at him. "Listen, Severus. I can imagine that you are worried, but honestly, you shouldn't worry about that. You are a decent man and if anyone can handle this child, then it is you. Do not worry too much about the ministry. It will work out well."

"I wish you were right." Severus said, closing his eyes for a moment. So many things could go wrong. What had been the exact reason as to why he hadn't told Harry of the adoption papers yet, as to why he had planned to wait until he had the papers back from the ministry. But the boy had found out on his own and he just hoped that he would not be disappointed if his past came up and the ministry would refuse. He wasn't sure if the boy would be able to handle the situation so well then.

"He trusts you, Severus." Herbaceous still looked at the boy, studying the thin face. "And he seems to be comfortable with you."

"What surely wasn't an easy task and I only hope that nothing will go wrong." Severus sighed, remembering the first few days the child had been in his care. It would throw the boy back into those few days.

"I can imagine." The older wizard nodded. "My offer stands, Severus. If you need help, someone to talk to, or simply an advise, you may floo over whenever you want."

"I know, Herbaceous." Severus nodded. "And I thank you for your offer."

The older wizard smiled, seeing how comfortable not even the boy in his friend's arms seemed to be, considering that the child was sleeping in Severus' arms, but noticing how comfortable the Potions Master himself seemed to be, still holding the sleeping child against his chest, one arm wrapped securely around the small chest and shoulders, as if to keep the boy safe and the other hand unconsciously carding through the child's black hair.

"I will leave the two of you alone now." He sighed. "I really have to go, or Amelie will kill me before I even step out of the floo."

Severus gave the other man a short nod and stood, gathering the boy into his arms in a way so his head was resting comfortably on his shoulder, just as he had done this afternoon. He would bring him back to bed as soon as Herbaceous had left.

"It is good to know that you are able to hand something you got from Amelie and me down to another young child that is in need of someone who cares." Herbaceous said, placing his hand onto the younger wizard's shoulder for a moment before he turned and went to the fireplace.

Severus gave no answer, not knowing what exactly he could say to this, but there was no need to, Herbaceous didn't seem to expect an answer.

"Good night, Severus." He said, taking a handful of floo powder from the pot on the mantelpiece.

"Good night, Herbaceous." Severus finally managed to say. "And give Amelie my best wishes. I will visit with Harry as soon as the boy is ready."

"VanHarkins Estate." Herbaceous called out while throwing the floo powder into the flames and after turning one last time to give a smile and a nod to the Potions Master he stepped into the flames and left Hogwarts.

Sighing Severus turned towards Harry's room and lowered the boy back onto the bed. He was not really surprised that the boy never woke, neither during their conversation nor when he carried him into his room and to bed. It had been a long and hard day for the child and he guessed that their voices had dulled Harry to sleep, keeping him there. He sat onto the edge of the mattress, watching the sleeping child for a moment before covering the small form with both the blankets. He shook his head for a moment, huffing.

Yes, this child really was a handful and he knew this wouldn't change anytime soon, if ever.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was an hour later when the Potions Master felt the presence of someone standing in the doorway and reaching out with his senses he easily recognized Harry's magic. He kept his eyes close, curiously waiting what the boy would do next. He had told the boy to get him if he was scared of the storm and just now he remembered that thunder had woken him in the first place.

Well, he didn't have to wait long. Silent thunder growled through the night, dimmed by the thick masonry of the castle but still loud enough to startle a child and the sound of hasty bare feet on stony ground made him nearly smirk. The mattress of his bed dipped slightly when the boy crept onto his bed and still Severus waited.

Harry had been laying in his bed when thunder had woken him out of his dream. It had been a pleasant dream, of silent voices murmuring. He hadn't been able to make out the words, but that didn't matter. Earlier the Professor had told him anyway that he shouldn't listen on conversations that weren't meant for him and so he just had listened to the sound of the murmuring voices and he just had lost himself in the feeling of being held. But then another sound had been there and with a start he had woken and sat up in his bed.

He hadn't been able to recognize the sound at first, only knowing that it had startled him. But it was gone when he had been sitting up in his bed. It had been silent for a while then and he nearly had relaxed back into his bed.

But then there had been the sound again and this time he had recognized it as thunder.

It surely was the storm the Professor had mentioned earlier and at first he had been sitting silently in his bed, unmoving, and just flinching each time the thunder growled through the night, each time hastily throwing his blanket over his head.

He simply was stupid.

It was nothing more than a storm and a bit of thunder. And he knew that nothing would happen. He had lived through thunder before, at the Dursleys, and surely he would live through this one now too.

Well, he knew that Dudley always had scrambled to his parent's bedroom and that he had climbed into their bed, that he had been cradled by his mother throughout the rest of the night, sleeping safely then. But surely the Dursleys never would have allowed _him_ to get them just because he was afraid of a bit of thunder. Not that he would have been able to do so anyway as his cupboard always was locked and he never could open the locks from the inside of …

The next growl caused him to squeeze his eyes shut and he quickly jumped under his blankets again, not bothering to just pull them over his head. He nearly had given away a low and startled scream. This one had been a nasty one, he thought.

But honestly, how old was he?

He was eleven, for heaven's sake! And he was eleven _years_ and not eleven _months_.

Slowly he crept forth from under the blankets again when the rolling thunder had been finished. He really shouldn't be afraid of a bit of a thunder and a storm. Nothing would happen to him, he was safely inside the castle and surely the castle would not break apart. And surely the lightening wouldn't hit the castle either.

Looking around in the dim light the candle that sat in the wall beside the door gave away he tried to make out the outlines of the furniture in his room. But honestly, with his bad eyesight combined with the darkness and the flickering of the candle it wasn't really possible. He couldn't see clearly. But – really, that wasn't necessary, was it? It was just a bit of thunder. And honestly, the Professor surely would not be so proud of him anymore if he would see him just now. Covering like a three year old under the …

Again the thunder growled and after flinching and giving away a low squeak he literally jumped under the blankets, his heart racing furiously. Maybe it might be just thunder, but it got worse each time it rolled through the castle. Could the thunder maybe get inside the castle? Was it possible?

When there was magic existing, maybe there could be a magical thunder existing too? And maybe here in this world the thunder was able to get into the castle? Somehow?

He surely couldn't go and get the Professor, could he? He had said he could. But – could he really?

He surely was asleep by now. And he surely wouldn't be too happy if he woke him now. Because of a bit of thunder!

Silently he began to count, this surely would help. Like it helped falling asleep when counting. It was simply something to keep his mind working and off the storm.

One, two, three … he listened while counting, but – no thunder. Ok, then, four, five, six, seven …

Another deep and long growl caused his heart to speed up again and he barely was able to suppress another squeak while he – yet again – quickly jumped under his blankets. He just wanted the Professor.

But he couldn't get the man. It was a simple storm, nothing more, and Professor Snape had told him that there was a storm this night. So – he had known, he had been warned, he had been prepared, and he just couldn't wake him now.

But the Potions Master had said he could get him. Because of the storm. And counting didn't help really.

Desperately he tried to remember what he had done when being with the Dursleys, when being in his cupboard. But he couldn't remember. He had done nothing but listening then, sitting in a corner of his cupboard and silently crying, hoping he wouldn't wake his aunt and uncle because he would get into trouble then. In other words – nothing that would help him just now and he scolded himself because he knew he was on the verge of tears.

But he wasn't a baby! And this was only a storm! And he was safe inside the castle, not outside in the storm!

Well, maybe if he just _stayed_ under the blankets instead of coming forth each time the thunder was gone, and maybe if he just recited potions ingredients. That surely would help better than counting. He had to concentrate more then. He could curl up here under the blankets, safely, and list his potions ingredients and then surely …

He quickly scrambled out of his bed when the next growling made him hitch a breath. He just needed his father and he needed him now! The growling grew louder and louder each time and listing potions ingredients didn't help either. Didn't help at all! He just needed to get the Professor! He was scared.

It was only a storm and it was nothing more than thunder, but he was scared. And the Professor had said he cold get him.

Quickly he left his room and with a few quick _'pat_, _pat_, _pat'_ of his bare feet on the stony floor he was in front of the door that led to Professor Snape's bedroom. But – could he really enter? And get the man? He had said he could. But … but … what if he did so and the man got angry at him because he had been sleeping?

Curling up on the floor beside the door and wrapping his arms around his chest, trying to keep the cold nightly dungeon air away, he tried to steel himself for going back to his room. It simply was out of question to wake the older wizard just because of a simple storm. He just would go back to his room, that was easy, he knew where his room was, and he could do this, and …

The next thunder that growled made him jump up and quickly shoving the ajar door open.

The candle that stood on the nightstand beside the large bed illuminated the Potions Master's sleeping form and it strangely calmed him, just knowing that his father was there. At least he wasn't alone.

Maybe it was enough if he just stood there, watching the Professor. That surely was enough. It was just thunder, after all, and he was just stupid. Honestly.

Had he even just referred to the Professor as his father? He surely wasn't his father yet, was he?

He better didn't tell this one to Professor Snape. The Potions Master surely would think he was a baby. Being afraid of a bit of thunder! He was a first year student on an academic institute. And surely none of the other students were afraid as he was. They surely turned in their beds, blinking and then slept on, not minding the storm.

Standing there he again scolded himself and took a breath. He would go back to his room as soon as he released this breath, he wouldn't be afraid of a bit of thun…

Quickly he ran towards the bed at the growl that had been growing louder yet again. How in heaven's name could this thunder grew louder and louder each time? Carefully he climbed up onto the large bed.

Even getting into trouble for waking Professor Snape was – just now – better than the thunder. Maybe he wouldn't say so later when he actually _got_ into trouble then, but right now it surely was better than the thunder. Surely the Professor wouldn't beat him, would he? He always said he wouldn't. And he never had done so up to now. And he surely wouldn't do so now either, would he?

No, surely not.

His heart beat as fast as it had with the thunder growling and startling him and he was as scared as with the storm itself. But at least he was safe. And maybe if he just kept his space and sat here on the edge of the bed. He didn't need to wake the Professor. That surely wasn't necessary. He was here and the bed was comfortable. And it was large enough so he wouldn't wake the Professor by just sitting here. It was …

The rumble rolling through the air outside of the castle was loud and long and even within the castle it rolled and echoed and with a small squeak Harry scrambled across the bed and closer to the Professor, instinctively grabbing a corner of the blanket in his small fists and pulling at the fabric, throwing it over his head.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus felt Harry's presence standing in the doorway and keeping his eyes close he curiously waited what the boy would do next. He had told the boy to get him if he was scared, but somehow he sensed that Harry was unsure of what to do and judging by the hesitance Harry displayed, he even seemed to consider going back into his own room.

Well, he knew that most children were afraid of thunderstorms, Harry really wasn't an exception. And he had to admit, for a child the growling here inside the castle – even if dimmed by the masonry – might be nearly as scary as it was outside.

He knew that it was an improvement that the boy had come into his room at all, not only to shove his bedroom door open, but to actually enter his bedroom too, even if he lingered in the doorway now. He had doubted this boy would do so and now he wanted to know how far the boy would go, which fear would be worse, the fear of the thunderstorm or the fear of him.

Well, the next thunder would come and as he judged the boy's present action, he quickly would scoot closer.

However, he didn't have to wait long. Growling and echoing thunder growled through the night, loud enough to startle the child and the sound of hasty bare feet on stony ground made him nearly smirk as the mattress of his bed dipped and the boy climbed onto his bed. He really had to fight hard to keep himself from chuckling. It wouldn't be fair to laugh at the child that was scared.

Well, so Harry was on his bed meanwhile, and he prepared himself to be 'wakened' by a scared und unsure child.

A child scared by the thunderstorm and unsure if he really was allowed to wake him or if he would be in trouble now. But Harry did nothing, aside from sitting on one corner of the bed and he guessed that the boy didn't dare to come closer, that he thought he maybe would be angry at him if he woke him. He just sat there, afraid to wake him, but afraid of the storm as well and he clearly could feel the mattress shake with the boy's trembling. For a moment he even considered to just give up his curiosity and to reach over, to grab the child and to pull him closer, to end the boy's misery and indecision. But then he dismissed the thought.

He really wanted to know what Harry would fear more, him, or the thunder. It was a chance to learn how much the boy still feared him. Well, something deep within him knew exactly that it was stupid, that the boy would not sit in his bedchamber and on his bed – even if on the other end – if he still really feared him.

Then again – the boy feared the storm outside the castle, the thunder that growled and echoed through the halls within the old masonry, especially the dungeons, and he knew how frightening this was. He even wondered that none of the new first years had come to get him yet. They normally did in such a night.

Again the thunder rolled through the night, echoing in the castle's halls, and with a small scream of fear the boy quickly went over to him, nearly throwing himself at his side. But then – and that was the point where he wasn't able to contain himself any longer from laughing silently – Harry grabbed his blanket and hastily pulled it over his head, leaving him without the cover.

Grabbing the blanket he gently pulled the heavy fabric from the small form that lay curled up into a small ball beside him to look into a small and pale face that was partly illuminated by the soft light the candle on his nightstand gave away. The boy had his eyes pressed shut tightly and the small fists still clutched at the cover.

"Harry." He softly said, reaching over to place his hand onto a small trembling shoulder, and gently he shook the boy to get his attention. Harry hadn't even noticed by now that he had pulled the blanket off him, too deep in his fear and Severus sighed. He really should have addressed the boy while he still had been standing in the doorway.

"Hush, child." He gently pried the boy's fingers from the fabric of the blanked, just to have Harry quickly and startled sitting upright in his bed, looking at him with large and frightened green eyes and apologizing. Quickly he took the small fists in his hands to still their movements.

"Do not even think of apologizing, Harry." He said. "I have told you to get me if the storm woke you tonight. Just lay back down and try to go back to sleep, You are safe here. It only is a stormy night and the thunder won't harm you inside the castle. Hogwarts has withstood far worse than this."

He pulled the boy closer to him and instinctively, as if he never had done something else than cuddling a child in his bed during a stormy night, he wrapped his arms around the boy and turned him until Harry lay with his back pressed against his chest, his head resting on his arm and his small hands gripping his other arm that was curled around the boy's chest, clinging to his arm as if on dear life.

He still could feel the small body in his arms trembling and he sighed.

"Don't worry, you didn't wake me." He said, trying to comfort the child. "The thunder had been quicker than you on this task." For a moment he had been about to say 'had been beaten you to that' but he quickly had changed his wording, sensing that maybe the word 'beaten' in this sentence might awaken some memories and the last thing he needed this night added to a scared child was a child that had flashbacks that surely would drive him into a panic attack.

"Hush." He soothed, closing his own eyes. "Go back to sleep, I'm here."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_A visit from Draco and the young Malfoy has to learn that some children are not as spoiled as he is._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you


	29. visits

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

Yes – it's not here, this time either … the annoying little note … .oO( … how shocking …) …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_For a moment he had been about to say 'had been beaten you to that' but he quickly had changed his wording, sensing that maybe the word 'beaten' in this sentence might awaken some memories and the last thing he needed this night added to a scared child was a child that had flashbacks that surely would drive him into a panic attack._

_"Hush." He soothed, closing his own eyes. "Go back to sleep, I'm here."_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter twenty-nine**

**Visitors**

"Professor?"

Severus looked up from the desk he was sitting at, grading papers as usual. It was Saturday, and of course he spent the early morning hours in his office so his Slytherins had a chance to approach him. The past few weeks he had been in his quarters, barely coming out aside from the weekly meetings with his first years and the first year potions classes on Tuesday and Thursday. But Harry was well enough meanwhile so he could leave him alone for two hours each morning and thus he had taken up some of his office hours and his NEWT classes. And soon he would take Harry along to at least the potions classes and Minerva would take him to the transfiguration classes.

Hopefully by that time Harry would trust Filius enough so he could take him to charms classes too.

"Yes, Marcus?" He asked, forcing his mind away from the boy and towards the prefect that stood in the doorway to his office.

"Well, sir." The student began, coming closer and taking a seat opposite the Potions Master when the teacher pointed at the chair in front of the desk. "I had a word with Avenger yesterday. And he asked me if we could try getting Harry on the team. You know, that we lack a good seeker and from what I have heard, he is pretty good. They say he manoeuvred the broom beneath Longbottom's in order to catch him if he fell. What he quite did."

"I agree with you and Avenger that we really need a good seeker since Copper left last year, but honestly, the cup is not worth the safety of a student." Severus answered. "And Harry is far from being ready flying on a broom. Let alone in a game like Quidditch. He should not have done so in the first place. It was dangerous and it nearly cost his neck."

"Yes, I know, sir." Marcus answered. "May I speak openly?"

"Of course, Marcus." The Potions Master answered, wondering what the boy wanted to say. They all knew that they always could speak openly with him and if Marcus asked for permission of doing so, then it was something he would not like to hear.

"Well, no offend, sir. But, we know that you are Harry's guardian. And you really seem to care deeply about him. We even guess that you might be more to Harry than just his teacher and guardian. But we also think that you might be become a bit overprotective when it comes to Harry."

Severus nodded. Yes, Marcus was right in asking for permission first. Would any student from another house have addressed him thus, or would he have blunted it out without his permission to speak openly, he surely would have gotten himself into trouble. But well, he had given Marcus his permission.

"You are right, Marcus." He settled on answering calmly. "I surely care deeply about Harry and there might be more than just a simple teacher/student relationship. Nevertheless I would act irresponsible if I would allow _any _student in Harry's condition on a broom. That boy is far from being well and the fact that he isn't even able to attend classes yet should prove you just that. Harry is far too weak for a game such as Quidditch and he surely cannot afford any more injuries. Going back to classes in a short time will be strenuous enough to him without such activities."

"So, that's final, sir?" Marcus asked desperately. "There's no way we can get Harry as seeker?"

"As much as I would have you holding the Quidditch cup, Marcus, but yes, that is final. Harry will not join the team." Severus answered, his voice firm. "Maybe next year, but surely not this year."

Marcus Flint, the Slytherin prefect gave a defeated nod, knowing that he wouldn't be able to persuade Snape if he had made his mind up. However, he was surprised at his head of house's next words.

"As soon however as I have considered Harry being recovered enough, you – together with Avenger might give him flying lessons twice a week. You will do so only if both of you are available to overlook him and there will be no stupid stunts. While an activity containing sport might do him good, we still do not know how much lasting damage will remain of his abuse and thus you will start in small steps. And I will be present during the first few lessons. I hope I made myself absolutely clear."

"Yes, sir." Marcus answered, barely trying to hide his excitement, and then left the office, leaving a heavily sighing Potions Master behind who asked himself if he had made the right decision.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry was nervous to no end.

This afternoon Draco Malfoy would visit them, the blond boy that always had been sitting beside him on the bench in the great hall during his first two days here at Hogwarts. The boy that had tried to speak to him, that had extended his hand to him. He had refused back then. He hadn't spoken to him, because he just couldn't. And he hadn't given him his hand, because … well, because he couldn't have done that either. The boy would have seen his fingers and …

Again, not for the first time during the past six weeks, Harry looked down at his hands, at his fingers, curling and uncurling them, watching them, this fingers that were healed now, and he gave one of his rare smiles. The Professor had healed them. And he had healed them because he cared. Never before had anyone cared for him, let alone healed him. But the Professor had.

And now this boy would visit them. The son of Lucius Malfoy whom they had met the day before in Diagon Alley. And Draco was the godson of the Professor too. So he would have to keep a grip on himself and be polite and …

Well, the Professor would not be too pleased if he somehow offended Draco, would he?

Surely not. Maybe he even would not want him in his quarters anymore if he offended his godson. Would not want to adopt him anymore if he did, and for a moment he shuddered.

And in the evening Professor Flitwick would visit them. But he would not come over for tea as he had done two or three times now, but he would give him lessons today just as Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall did.

Well, he knew that he had to attend classes soon, Professor Snape had said so. He had said that he nearly was ready to. That he just wanted him to recover fully first, and to have a few more private lessons first so he could catch up with the rest of the students more easily.

And he did understand that. He just was nervous.

"Your wardrobe arrived, Harry." The Professor's quiet voice came from the doorway and Harry looked up from the book he had been staring at since more than ten minutes now without moving one single page. "Shall we get them into your closet now? There is still half an hour left before Draco will be here."

The Potions Master easily noticed the boy's nervousness, and he knew that the boy hadn't turned the page of the book he – apparently – was reading for far too long than it would take him actually reading the page. The boy feared Draco's visit.

Understandable.

Draco would be the first person – apart from Minerva and Filius to whom the boy was accustomed by now – who visited them and if he was honest with himself, then he hadn't even been sure to allow Draco this visit when he had asked him. But then, maybe it really was better if Harry got to know one of his classmates before he went back to his classes.

**Flashback**

_Severus was sitting behind his desk, waiting for the students to hand in the samples of the Potions they had brewed today, grading the essays they had handed in earlier. If he began to grade them now he would have less work later and could concentrate more onto Harry and the potion he would brew with the boy this afternoon. As soon as they had left he would have a look at their burn-healing potion, grade their work and he knew that this would take him at least two more hours. _

_He would have to look closely at the potions, feel them, smell them, taste them, and he would have to figure out at what exact step they had made mistakes. Well, it was easy with Longbottom's potion. He had watched the boy, as he always did, and he had seen him adding the salamander skin at least two steps too early. _

_He hadn't kept him from doing so as it wouldn't be dangerous – this time. But it had destroyed the potion. Foolish boy. _

_He was sure that Longbottom – with his knowledge of plants, according to Pomona – would be capable of brewing a decent Potion if he just were not as messy as he – regrettably – was._

_Theodore's potion too had the wrong colour he immediately noticed as the boy placed the vial on his desk and he would have to figure out where the boy's mistake had been. Judging from the shade of violet instead of clear blue the heat had been too high when he had added the salamander skin. But he couldn't be really sure before he hadn't separated each single …_

_"Professor?" Draco's voice interrupted his thoughts and he looked up to find his godson standing in front of his desk, his vial still in his hand and an unsure look on his face._

_"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" He asked, his dark eyes fixing the boy._

_"Well, I just wanted to ask if it were possible to … well, __to visit Harry." Draco asked, his voice quiet and calm but his unsure gaze giving away his anxiety. _

_Severus thought about the question for a moment, noticing that the last students – Crabbe and Goyle – left the classroom, and for a moment he pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn't sure if he really should allow it. Harry was still too scared of strangers. And he didn't know if Harry would be ready for this, for a visit from one of his classmates, for his classmates to know. And he hadn't spoken with the boy about a visit at all, something he should have done by now, he recognized. _

_He should have been preparing the boy for going back to classes one day. What he hadn't yet._

_But then – well, it was only Draco. And he knew that Draco would be discrete. As all of his Slytherins were he thought with a mixture of sadness and yet pride. Draco wouldn't offend the boy and he wouldn't startle him. Harry would have the chance to get one of his classmates to know before he went back to classes._

_"I guess that would be acceptable, Draco." He said, using the boy's given name as no other students were present now. "I even think it is a good idea. I just want you to be very careful though. No quick movements, no raised voice and you will have to keep your distance towards Harry. He still is not ready for much pressure and even extending your hand towards him could startle him."_

_Draco nodded, understanding on his face and once again he felt pride well up inside of him. _

_"Saturday afternoon at two then." He simply said. "In my quarters. I take it you remember where they are?"_

_"Of course, uncle Severus." Draco answered. "I have visited you often enough during the past years and I think you won't have moved yet."_

_"Indeed, I haven't." Severus nodded. "Oh, and Draco."_

_"Yes?"_

_"Be careful to not mention Mr. Dursley, Draco." Severus sighed heavily. "I haven't told Harry by now that his cousin is here as well."  
Draco frowned at him but he didn't say anything to that, only nodded._

_"And now off with you or you will be late for transfiguration. I won't write you a pass." Severus growled._

_"Of course not, you wouldn't be Professor Snape if you did." Draco chuckled, turning towards the door. "Until Saturday."_

_"Impertinent brat!" Severus growled, but he had to fight hard to hide his smile._

**End flashback**

Stepping into the room he placed the small, in brown paper wrapped parcels on Harry's bed and with a flick of his wand he had enlarged them.

Harry still sat on the bed, Indian style, the book still in his lap, and his eyes were startled directed onto the brown parcels. He clearly seemed to be at a loss, not knowing what to do with them, with the situation, even with himself.

Well, it was nothing he had not expected. In fact, he had known that the boy would not know what to do with the parcels. It was the same as with the books and with the toys he had bought him. Harry simply had not been able to place them in the shelves, had been unable to even touch them and in the end Severus had cleared them away, had told him they were for him to use whenever he was ready to while Harry had been standing in the room, lost and scared.

And the boy had the same look on his face now as he'd had back then.

"Open the next package please, Harry." He simply said, taking the first one to the drawer and opening the simple brown paper, placing the T-shirts and jumpers on the shelves within.

"Bring it over, Harry." He encouraged the boy while he placed the trousers on another shelve and then folded the brown paper and laid it onto the table. "That would be your shirts and robes, I guess, as your shoes surely will be in the satchel."

Harry slowly walked over to him, the open package in his arms and still the same lost look on his face. A desperate and scared look, Severus noticed and he had to suppress a sigh, trying to ignore the boy's distress, trying to not loudly curse the Dursleys.

"Yes, definitely robes." He said after a look at the black fabric within the brown paper and he was about to take them just as a knock on the door to his chambers stopped his movement. Curiously he lifted his eyebrow. Draco definitely was twenty minutes early.

"That would be Draco, I suppose." He sighed. "Would you please hang the robes and the shirts up in the closet?"

Noticing the boy's unease Severus placed a hand on the tense shoulders and pierced him with calm dark eyes.

"Do not worry, child." He quietly said. "I will answer the door and I will keep Draco in the living area so you can get adjusted to the situation and come out of your room on your own to greet him. As long as you come out at all that is, rather than hiding in here during his stay. Remember, Draco is here to see you, not me."

He watched the boy a moment longer until Harry nodded before he turned to answer the door.

He only could hope that Harry would be able to put the robes and the shirts into his closet and he only could hope that the boy would feel able to leave the safety of his room in order to face Draco. He really wasn't sure if Harry would be able to and he only could hope. But he prepared himself that he would have to try and get the boy sometimes during the afternoon.

"Draco." He greeted his godson upon opening the heavy wooden door that led into his private chamber and he stepped aside to let the blond in, not sure how Draco would react when seeing that Harry occupied the room he always had slept in. Well, Draco would have to get used to the fact that this room belonged to Harry now. If Draco still wanted to visit him during his holidays, then he simply would add another room for the boy. He maybe should do so anyway so he would have a guest chamber again.

"Uncle Severus." Draco smiled at him, allowing this smile now that they were not in public.

Well, Draco too much was a Slytherin as to allow his feelings been shown on his sleeve like the Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs.

"Take a seat, Draco." He said. "Harry will be here as soon as he is ready."

Draco immediately knew that his godfather didn't mean ready in form of getting dressed, but ready in form of being ready to meet him and his eyes went to the open door of the guest chamber he normally occupied and he nodded, sitting into one of the armchairs. Well, as it seemed Harry had gotten 'his' room.

Severus went over to Harry's room, leaning against the doorframe for a moment and watching the boy's slow and unsure movements while he hung up the robes and then simply placed the satchels with the shoes at the bottom of the closet and for a moment he thought that maybe it was good that Draco had been early. That had given him the chance to leave Harry alone with the task of unpacking his wardrobe. What on the other hand had given the boy room and space to breathe and to do so on his own accord.

Harry sat onto the bed and feeling his gaze on him the boy looked up and their eyes met for a moment before Severus simply nodded at him, showing him that it was ok to just sit there for a while longer and Harry cast his lost look back down on the floor.

Severus sighed. The boy surely knew each inch of the floor in his quarters by heart now he thought. And he really would have to get this habit out of the boy as soon as possible.

Pushing himself off the doorframe he went back to the coffee table where Draco was sitting, watching him with his head lowered to one side and he noticed that the boy already had poured himself a cup of tea.

"How was your week, Draco?" Severus asked, his voice low and gentle. "Any problems?"

"No, uncle Severus." The boy answered. "This week had been great. I have gotten a few really good marks. How was the potion I made on Thursday?"

Severus was about to tell him that he would have to wait until his next class on Tuesday as he noticed Draco discretely looking up through lowered eyelids and into the direction of Harry's room and he smiled, knowing that Harry just had shown himself in the doorway and probably wasn't sure if he should come over or not.

"Well, Draco." He simply answered. "Your Potion and Harry's have been – besides of Miss Granger's – the only sufficient ones. The rest of your classmate's potions had been either barely passable or atrocious."

"You have made the potion too?" Draco lifted his head into the direction of Harry's room, daring to invite the dark haired boy into the conversation. He had not planned it, had originally thought he would give Harry the chance to either go back to his room or to come over when he was ready, just as uncle Severus had said. But his godfather's statement had gotten him by surprise. Harry had not been in classes and yet he had made the potion and uncle Severus had said he had been as good as he was. That was surprising.

Severus turned around in his armchair and watched Harry nodding at Draco, casting unsure glances through the room, towards him and then towards Draco until he – again – watched the floor.

"Yes." He simply answered for the boy. "Harry has made the potion as he has made every other potion you have made in class, Draco. Won't you come over, Harry?" He asked.

Harry indeed came over, but he sat onto the edge of the sofa, as far away from Draco as possible, only nodding to the blond in a manner of greeting, not moving his hands in front of the other boy, but he definitely looked guilty and Severus only could guess that it was because he didn't dare to greet Draco Malfoy, who he knew was his godson, properly.

"Why don't you just take a cup of tea?" He asked, reaching a mug with the hot liquid over to Harry. _'So your hands are occupied by something that will get your mind off your nerves.'_ He thought. "In fact, the both of you have proved to be outstanding with your potions work."

Draco smiled and Harry blushed slightly, giving his always so pale cheeks a pleasant colour.

"Well, it isn't too difficult." Draco smirked. "If you don't happen to be named Longbottom."

"Mr. Longbottom would be a decent student in potions if he wouldn't be so messy." Severus shook his head at Draco. "His essays are quite adequate. But I am sure neither of you wish to discuss your fellow students. How are you doing in your other classes, Draco?" He asked, addressing his godson and at the same time giving Harry room and time to get adjusted to the situation.

"Oh, quite well." Draco answered. "Transfiguration, charms and defence are ok. But honestly, who needs Herbology. And really, History is a joke."

"Well, History _can _be quite an interesting subject." Severus suggested.

"Yeah." Draco huffed. "If your teacher wouldn't be able to get you asleep within the first sentence. The only thing that keeps me awake is the disgust at seeing Weasley drool while he sleeps."

"I better do not imagine this particular picture." Severus drawled. "However, Herbology is a subject that is required for some careers." The Potions Master said. "If I am not mistaken, then you wanted to study potions in later years and become a Potions Master by yourself, Draco. And thus you definitely need Herbology."

Harry looked over at Draco at this words and Severus could see the curious look on the boy's face. Yet – he didn't know if the boy wondered about Draco's choice of career or if he wondered why he himself had not thought about a career for himself yet.

"You have still time, Harry." He said, trying to figure out what the boy thought. "Until you have to chose your career. You will have to choose the subjects required for your career not until the beginning of third year."

Harry nodded at him and he really seemed to be relieved somehow.

"However, I have seen you on the broom, Harry." Draco addressed the smaller first year and Harry looked up, startled, remembering what exactly had happened during this day and Severus easily could see the boy's hands going into a tense knot to keep himself from signing – surely another apology. "And Marcus even said you should attend tryouts. He said you would be the perfect seeker for Slytherin."

"I already had a word with Marcus on Thursday morning." Severus growled. Harry surely was all but ready to play a game like Quidditch and he would be damned if he let the boy play this year. Yet, he couldn't just tell so right now. "First years are not allowed to play on the game and Marcus should have thought about it before he got the team's hopes up." He simply said, not wanting to give the real reason away why he didn't want Harry on the team, as tempting as it would be to win the Quidditch cup.

"That's what Professor McGonagall said as well when she heard of Marcus' suggestion." Draco smirked at his godfather, knowing well he would not like the words.

"Insufferable brat." Severus huffed. "I shall tell Zilly that he won't have to serve biscuits later."

"That's not fair, uncle Severus!" Draco whined before he recognized that he had called his godfather 'uncle Severus' in front of Harry, what he had intended not to do as he didn't know how Harry would take that one. Uncle Severus was Harry's guardian after all and he was pretty sure that the man would take Harry really in, maybe even adopt him and he cast an unsure look at the Potions Master.

"And why, pray tell, wouldn't that be, dear Draco?" Severus smirked at the blond boy, inclining his head towards the young Malfoy to show him he had recognized his questioning look, had understood what he meant and that it was ok, that he already had told Harry that Draco was his godson.

"Well, I just told you what Marcus and Professor McGonagall said." Draco answered, relieved. "Those had not been my words."

"You do know what happens to bearer of bad news, Draco? Don't you?" Severus lifted his eyebrow at the blond.

"Uhm, you know, uncle Severus, we do not live in the middle ages anymore?"

"Apparently not." Severus answered. "How about those biscuits Zilly promised?"

He watched Harry close while Zilly served the biscuits, noticing that the boy was far more silent than normal, not knowing how to react, what to do, not daring to use any signs in front of Draco nor showing signs of his inability to speak at all as he hadn't brought his notebook either.

Noticing his godfather's look at Harry and knowing that maybe the both of them needed a moment Draco excused himself for the bathroom and uncle Severus threw a grateful look towards him. Well, so he had done the right thing. He had to admit that the situation was all but easy. And surely for uncle Severus and Harry it must be even more complicated. He hadn't thought about that when he had asked his godfather if he could visit.

He knew for example that Harry wasn't able to speak. That he used signs. But he hadn't done so up to now since he was here and he was pretty sure why he hadn't done so.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Severus simply asked as soon as Draco had left the living area.

Harry quickly nodded at the Professor before he cast his gaze down to the floor. How could he explain that he didn't want to give his weakness away? That he had to be strong in front of others? That showing weakness would cause only more pain? They only would hurt him more if they knew they could hurt him. That for he had to show strength.

"Harry." Severus said, leaning forwards, only a bit, knowing that the boy was nervous enough to be startled and scared easily. "You do not have to, but you may use either signs or your notebook. Draco does already know that you are not able to speak. They already saw you using signs the day of their flying lesson. And as soon as you go back to classes they will know anyway. Maybe it is best you get used to it now as it is only Draco here now. It will be easier on later times when you have to use your notebook in front of the entire class. You do know that you can relate on the Slytherins, don't you?"  
For a moment Harry remembered the blond boy and the comment he had made on the first morning. And the fact that none of the other Slytherins had stood up for him.

**Flashback **

_"Oi, look whom it is." Malfoy sneered when he saw Harry sitting by the fire. "It is Potter. Did you sleep well, last night? Beside your bed on the floor?" He asked in a mocking voice and even if Theodore Nott turned his head away so he did not have to look at Harry, the rest of them laughed loudly when they remembered._

_"On the floor?" One of the fifth years asked and Harry groaned inwardly. Just what he had needed. Soon enough the entire school would know that he slept on the floor instead of using the bed because he was not allowed to do so._

_"Yes, on the floor." Malfoy answered with a smirk on his face. "Whimpering like a baby."_

**End flashback**

Well, it had been the first day. And they all had been new.

Maybe Draco had not known how to react back then. Maybe he just had wanted to show strength too, in order to not getting hurt by others. Maybe Draco too knew that one better never showed weakness.

But nevertheless those words had hurt.

"I know." He finally signed. "But I don't know how."

"There was a first time, Harry, when you used the signs with me." Severus said seriously. "Remember?"

The boy nodded and the Potions Master smiled.

"And it has not been easy for you doing so back then, am I correct?"

Harry shook his head this time, his gaze still on the floor.

"But nevertheless you did use them this first time and now we are able to communicate this way." Severus continued, trying to get the boy seeing the logic behind his words. "We would not be able to do so now, if you would not have overcome your fear back then. And maybe you could get past your fears with Draco now too."

"But … but he would … I do not want to be weak. I am already a freak …"

"You – are not – a freak!" Severus growled darkly, startling Harry. Yet, he didn't care. It was high time that the boy finally learned that and he was angry. He wasn't really angry at Harry, but at the boy's relatives who had drilled this notion into the boy. "You are not, absolutely not, a freak, Harry." He repeated in a calmer voice now, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. "You are absolutely not accustomed to being cared for by anyone, are you?" He sighed. "Nor to have any friends."

Harry didn't answer to that, but it wasn't necessary. Severus knew the answer already without needing an answer.

"You never have had friends, if I am correct." Severus simply stated. "Either because you have not been allowed out of your – _room_ – or the house in general, or because your cousin drove everyone away who would have been able to be your friend. Am I correct?"

Harry still had his eyes on the floor, but he nodded and Severus took hold of the boy's chin and lifted his head up so he had to look at him.

"Nor did you have anyone else who cared for you, Harry." He continued with a soft voice. "What is the exact reason why you have trouble believing people actually care about you. Why you always fear that those people who even might care, do seem to leave you, hurt you in the process. But I swear, I am not going anywhere. And neither is Draco, if you are willing to let him in."

"But I don't know how." Harry signed with small signs, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible.

"Just let it happen." Severus watched the boy with his dark eyes. "You can act around Draco in the same manner in which you act around myself. You just have to allow yourself to relax. And maybe you simply start with getting your notebook so you actually can partake in the conversation."

The horrified look on Harry's face and the slight headshaking he gave away was enough for the Potions Master to know it was for no good. The boy wouldn't use his signs and he wouldn't use his notebook either and he sighed.

"Well, maybe you want to change your mind throughout the afternoon, Harry." He silently stated.

"You are disappointed in me." The boy signed and immediately Severus took the boy's two hands in his own.

"I would have liked you trying to use any kind of tool to communicate, yes." He said, his dark eyes piercing the boy's green ones. "But I also understand that you cannot do so now. And no, I am not disappointed in you. You have come a long road since you are here and I am proud of you. No, Harry. I am!" He added, grabbing the boy's chin to keep him in place when Harry looked aside. "I know that you do not like to hear this, but it is the truth. You _have_ come a long way."

Noticing Draco standing in the doorway he nodded towards Harry and then got up, sitting back into his armchair, indicating that it was ok for the blond boy to come back.

"You better take some of the biscuits before Zilly gets annoyed." He said. "You won't have this as he surely won't get some in the near future then."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was an hour later when Harry made the first step.

Draco had told him that he had left his stuffed teddy bear at home because he was too old for a teddy bear. But now he missed it and he thought maybe he could ask his mother to send it over. Because his father surely wouldn't do so, would say he wasn't a baby anymore but honestly, Theodore had one too, as had Blaze, and all the girls. Even if he wasn't a girl, he quickly had added.

And now Harry was coming back out of his room after he slowly had left the living area, cuddling the dark brown stuffed animal that Severus had given him a few weeks earlier. He stood for a moment in the doorway, unsurely, shuffling his feet and his gaze down towards the floor again, before he came back to the sofa. He sat down and slowly extended his hand, reaching the teddy bear towards Draco and Severus silently got up and left the two boys to themselves. He would be in the small kitchen, keeping an eye on them, but away so they could have a bit of privacy.

Draco blinked at Harry, not sure what he should do, but then he extended his own hand, as slowly as the raven haired boy had and he took the stuffed animal.

The toy was not magical, he immediately noticed. It didn't make a sound, it didn't move, and neither did it change its colours. Nevertheless, in its simple muggle ways, this teddy bear was great. Its black eyes dead but shining, the soft fur lifeless but just that, soft.

"This one is cool." He said. "Mine is nearly white and it makes growling sounds, but honestly, this one is even better. I never had a muggle toy. But that's just because I do not have muggles in my family."

Harry was unsure for a moment. On one hand he wanted to tell the other boy that he had gotten this teddy bear from the Professor. And that it was his first toy he ever got. But on the other hand, he didn't know if the Professor would be ok with this. And he didn't know if he wanted Draco to know that he never had gotten something from his relatives before. And besides of that – he didn't even know how to tell without either using signs which he was pretty sure Draco wouldn't be able to read or writing. And he would have to go back to his room if he wanted to get his notebook.

In a flash of – what he called – stupidity, he again got off the sofa and went over to his room. He went over to his desk and took the notebook and the pencil that lay there, and then turned back, just to see Draco standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. For a moment he started to panic, noticing that he wouldn't be able to leave his room without crossing the blond boy and noticing that the boy could enter at every moment.

But then he recognized the unsure look Draco gave him, the same unsure look he always had himself and taking a deep breath he sat onto his bed and began to write.

Draco didn't know what to do. He didn't even know why he had followed Harry in the first place instead of waiting until he came back. He had not looked upset, rather as if he'd had an idea and was about to get something, thus coming back soon. But then he had followed the other boy and now he stood in his doorway. And he had seen the brief flash of panic crossing the boy's face and now he wasn't sure what to do.

Never before had he had to deal with something like that and he didn't want to frighten Harry.

But then Harry sat onto the bed and began to write – finally. He had heard what his godfather had told Harry. But it was a bit annoying to sit with Harry who didn't give any answers besides of a shaking of his head or a nod. He could understand the other's hesitance, but that doesn't help the fact that it just was – annoying.

Well, when Harry finished his writing he looked over at him. He didn't get up, just watched him for a moment, unsurely, nearly fearful, and then he slowly extended his hand with the notebook into his direction and Draco took this as a sign that he was allowed to enter the room. So he did.

He slowly entered and just as slowly he extended his right, taking the notebook before he sat down onto the chair in front of Harry's desk and then reading the note.

'I didn't get it from my aunt and uncle. I got it from Professor Snape.'

Harry wasn't sure, absolutely not sure. And just the moment Draco took the notebook from his hand he realized how unsure he really was about this. The moment Draco touched the notebook, he knew it was real. All of this was real.

Not only that he had written that the Professor had given him the teddy bear, but that he had written at all, instead of speaking. And now Draco knew. And there was even more.

Just in this small moment he got aware that this entire situation was real. He wasn't able to speak like Draco was. He never had gotten anything before, from no one besides from the Professor. And he lived now here with the Professor instead with his aunt and uncle and he never ever wanted to go back there because they had beaten him.

But the Professor never had. And he even had healed him. He even had healed his fingers. But he couldn't heal this. Because it was his own stupidity. And surely the Professor couldn't heal stupidity?

Draco looked up from the note and for a moment he thought that the other boy might start to either cry or to go into a panic. He looked definitely paler than he had before. He even considered for a moment if he should get uncle Severus. Maybe he had done something wrong and had startled him.

"That's cool." He finally said. "That you got this from uncle Severus." He quickly added. "I mean, who else gets presents from their professors?"

Coming back to reality by Draco's words Harry listened to them and he really wanted to write an answer. Well, rather a question back. But Draco still held the notebook in his hands and he didn't dare to ask him for it. For a moment he thought that the Professor always gave him the notebook back as soon as he had read what he had written. He never kept it in his hands after reading.

Draco noticed that Harry looked at the notebook and after a second of curiosity he looked at it too before his eyes went back towards the black haired boy before realization hit him and with a small "Oh … sorry" he gave the notebook back to the other boy. Well, as it seemed, he would have to get used to this kind of communication. But at least, Harry did communicate with him. That surely was a start, wasn't it?

'I'm sure a lot of others get things from their professors.' Harry slowly wrote and then reached the notebook back to Draco who read the note and then handed the book back immediately. He surely wouldn't do the same mistake a second time.

"Actually … no." He said, gazing openly at Harry. "I sometimes do, because Professor Snape is my godfather. But normally, no."

"That is not entirely correct, Mr. Malfoy." Severus' baritone voice came from the doorway and both boys whipped their heads towards the direction, seeing the Potions Master standing there, lightly leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded in front of his chest. "Fact is, the points-based system we have in Slytherin allows all of you to collect your points in order to change them into whatever it is you want to have. That may be release from a detention, lines or other punishments as well as free weekends, visits to Hogsmead or some activities that requires the presence of a professor." He explained. "Yet – they as well can be changed into material belongings such as books, toys, games or whatever it is the students require."

"Oh, ok." Draco made, nodding. "I forgot."

Well, he had not forgotten, but he had felt Harry getting uncomfortable with his comment, and that was a way to back out of it and he took this chance.

Harry on the other hand didn't and he watched Severus with sad and unsure eyes for a while before he instinctively moved his hands to ask his question and the Potions Master had to lift his eyebrow in order to keep himself from smiling.

"But … back then I hadn't points … then … then why … the bear …" He averted his eyes, not able to watch the man further. It wasn't normal that students got presents from their professors. But he had gotten one. And that was before he had been … that had been in the beginning when he was down here. He didn't understand … he just knew – it wasn't normal. Again, he wasn't normal.

Severus sighed, knowing exactly what it was that went through the boy's head and he didn't like it.

"First, Harry, it might not be _'normal'_ as you might call it, to get something from your professor. But not only am I your professor, I am your guardian, and I already have been your guardian back then. And thus, it is quite a normal occurrence." He explained before he turned to his godson. "Second, Draco, you have been grown up, getting every toy you wanted and your parents bought you just the best no matter how expensive it was. Harry didn't have the same luck."

He noticed Harry looking at the floor – again – and Draco looking curiously at him and he sighed. Harry might feel ashamed, but right now he wanted to make a point and Harry should learn that not _he_ should feel ashamed but his relatives.

"May I?" He simply asked, extending his hand towards the boy's backpack that still stood beside the bed and he patiently waited until the boy reluctantly nodded.

He took the last two steps until he was beside the bed and then he bent down and took hold of the boy's muggle backpack, opening the zipper. He took the now two sets of tattered and much too big clothes out and placed them on the boy's desk. He summoned Harry's school books and his school robes, the few parchments, the quill and the inkpot, placed every item on the desk beside the old clothes.

"That, Draco, is all Harry brought to Hogwarts when he arrived." He finally said, his voice a shade deeper than normal. "Old hand-me-downs from his cousin and his school supplies. That and his wand, nothing else. And that has been his only belongings ever. There wasn't more, not even back at his relatives."

He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder when he noticed the boy was close to tears and he looked into the pale and still much too thin face before he looked back at Draco who studied the old clothing with a startled expression on his face. He could tell the boy more, but he knew it wasn't his place to tell this, neither was it the time. It was Harry's place to do so, and he would do so when he was ready to and if he wished to.

"Do you understand now, Draco?" He silently asked.

"Yes, sir." Draco answered just as silently. "I'm sorry."

"There is no need to be sorry, Draco, as it is not your fault." Severus said, his voice stern. "Nor is there any reason for you to be ashamed, Harry, as it neither is your fault. Your aunt and uncle on the other hand are the ones who should be ashamed as their actions towards you are unforgivable. Do you understand? Both of you?"

Both boy's nodded, Draco with a sad expression and Harry still not able to look at either him or his classmate and Severus vanished the items back to where they belonged to.

"Zilly has brought some fruits." He finally sighed. "Do you want to have them in here? Or out in the living area?"

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Sighing heavily Severus got up and approached the open door to Harry's room.

Throughout the last hour he had been sitting in the armchair opposite the door, had watched the two boys who at some point during the afternoon had moved onto the floor in the middle of the room, first playing with the rune stones and later a game of wizarding chess and at some points he even could hear silent laugher from both boys through the door.

And now it was time for Draco to leave. Dinner would be served soon and afterwards Filius would come over.

He leaned against the doorframe to watch the two children for a while, noticing that Harry's face was still slightly tense with unsureness, maybe a bit of fear, but that there was a small smile on his face nevertheless and even if it hadn't been an easy afternoon for him, not knowing how much he could reveal to Draco and how Harry would take it, it seemed, it had been the right decision. It definitely was a valuable sight seeing the sorrow and the pain in Harry's eyes replaced with joy, even if it was only temporarily. The boy had some of his mother's charm, her beautiful eyes and her smile, even some of her features, but normally it was overlaid with his terrible and painful uncertainty and fear.

Harry had learned to lock up his fears and his pain when he was awake, but at night, when his mind was at the mercy of sleep and unaware of everything else than his dreams, then he was exposed and delivered to all the horrors he had lived through. But not now, just now this child seemed to be at peace, he smiled, he even had heard him silently laugh at one point during the afternoon, a sound at which he had promised to himself he would ensure that it was repeated and he hated it to disturb this short time of peace the boy now felt.

He softly knocked at the doorframe startling both children, especially Harry who actually jumped and he nearly could hear the boy's heartbeat speeding up for a moment.

"It is time." He simply said. "Dinner is ready in a few minutes and you should go to the great hall, Draco."

"Ok, uncle Severus." Draco said, his voice sad and silent.

Harry only nodded reluctantly and Severus had the impression that he was debating over whether to say something or not and he waited silently, willing the boy to use either his signs or his notebook to give a contradiction, to try an argument. But Harry didn't.

"Remember, Professor Flitwick will come over after dinner, Harry, and I want you to be ready then." He simply said when it was clear that the boy didn't dare to argue over his words. "It has been a long day for you, whether you want to admit it or not."

"Yes, sir." Was all Harry signed and Severus nodded.

"You can invite Draco for another day, Harry." He said. "But right now I want you to get ready for dinner."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was later in the evening when Harry lay on his bed, waiting for the Professor to come and say good night, when he had enough time to really think over the day.

He had seen the clothes the Professor had bought him, and he really had been startled at how many clothes there actually had been, and how nice they were. He never would be able to wear them all. But it had felt nice to know there was someone who actually cared enough to buy him such clothes.

Well, and then there had been Draco's visit. He first had feared it. Had been unsure how to react, if he could dare to use signs or his notebook, if he could dare to show Draco that he wasn't able to speak in the first place. But then the situation had given away itself and he had used his notebook.

Well, there had been the situation where the Professor had shown Draco his clothes, the ones he brought to Hogwarts. And he really had wanted to do nothing else than to flee the room then. He had been so ashamed he nearly had cried. But Draco seemed to understand and he had not made fun of him.

And later they had been playing on the rug in the middle of his room. First with his rune stones and later they had played wizarding chess, and he had really enjoyed it. Not only because the pieces had moved by themselves, but because they spoke and made quite a commotion and it had been funny. They even had had fruits in his room, something he'd had never before.

The only thing that had disturbed him, well … there had been a moment of sudden realization. The moment when it had hit him full force, the fact that he wasn't able to speak, the fact that maybe the Professor was right and he really had been … well … not abused, but … maybe not cared for or something like that …

Well, damn!

Yes!

Ok!

He had been …

... abused.

With a sudden scream of frustration he threw himself onto his stomach on his bed, gripped the pillow with both arms and pressed his face into the soft fabric, sobbing, not even caring that he cried like a baby.

The Professor had been right. He always had been right.

He didn't even care, maybe not even notice, when the mattress beside him dipped a bit when the man sat down beside him and placed his hand on his back between his shoulder blades.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus was just about to finish the page he was reading in the potions journal and then he would go to say Harry good night. It had become their routine by now and he briefly wondered how they both would cope when the boy would be back in his dormitory. He hardly could walk up there each night to say good night to him.

But then – why ever not? Harry would be his son by then and …

A loud scream from Harry's room startled him and immediately he threw the potions journal at the table, drew his wand and silently but swiftly made his way to the boy's room. If there was something or someone dangerous in Harry's room, then he better didn't give his approach away so quickly.

Well, the scream stopped as quickly as it had been started and the only thing that was left was the silent sobs he could hear from the boy. He entered the room, his wand pointing into the semi-dark space, but he could see nothing besides of Harry laying on his stomach, hiding his face in his pillow and shaking with the sobs he gave away.

Well, as it seemed there was no danger present, but only the boy that cried on his bed and he pocketed his wand and went over to the boy. He slowly sat down beside the small form, and with a heavy sigh he placed his hand on the boy's back between the still prominent shoulder blades, feeling the small backbones under his hand and he wondered how long it would take the boy to gain a normal weight, or if he ever would.

"Hush, child." He whispered, noticing that those sobs were not just the miserable and desperate ones he normally heard, but that there was anger in them as well. "What's wrong?" He asked, wondering if he had done something that got the boy upset like that. Maybe because he had shown Draco the boy's old rags.

Harry turned to face him and he ran the sleeves of his pyjama over his eyes to get rid of the tears, just to have them coming back again when he started his signs.

"You have been right, sir." The boy signed.

"May I ask with what exactly I have been right?" He asked, still at a loss but somehow he got an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

"What they did." Harry answered. "You have been right about what they did."

Severus sighed. Yes, that made sense. The boy began to acknowledge the abuse as that what it was. And that explained the anger in his sobs that still shook the small body. It was important that the boy finally acknowledged it, he knew this, but he also knew the pain the boy felt right now and if he would have been able to take this pain away, then he would do it without hesitation. This kind of pain was nothing a child should ever feel.

"Come here, child." He softly whispered, gripping the boy's shoulder and pulling him close, giving him no chance to reject. He just pressed the small body against him, his hand on the back of the black haired head, securing the boy's head against his chest while his other hand he ran up and down the boy's backbones, trying to give as much comfort as possible.

"I know how painful this realization is, child." He whispered. "But believe me, it is important that you finally do so. That it was neither right of them to abuse you, nor that it was your fault."

"But why did they? I don't understand it."

"They did, because they are evil." Severus answered, sighing again. "It had nothing to do with you, child. It is important that you know this. It was not your fault and it was not right of them."

"I felt it." Harry again ran his sleeves over his eyes between the signs. "I felt it this afternoon. When I gave the notebook to ... to … to the boy … when he took it … when he touched it … I suddenly felt that it was true, that I cannot … that I cannot speak. It was like it hit me and it hurt … in here … and I suddenly knew that you were right all the times. They did … this … what you always said … the abuse … they did …"

Again the boy turned back towards him and hid his face in his black robes, sobbing against his chest and all that Severus could do was to hold the boy, to allow him to release his pain and his misery in the only way the boy knew of. With his tears.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_What is it with Draco and Dudley?_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you


	30. letters

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Again the boy turned back towards him and hid his face in his black robes, sobbing against his chest and all that Severus could do was to hold the boy, to allow him to release his pain and his misery in the only way the boy knew of. With his tears._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter thirty**

**Letters**

Minerva had been shaking her head more often than not during the past two days and most of the time she barely was able to contain her laugher. They better did not let Severus hear what they were whispering to each others in the hallways. They would not only land themselves in detention quicker than they even would be able to blink, but most likely lose house points as well. And this prospect wasn't one she really looked forwards to, losing house points.

"Did you see Snape?"

"Have you seen Snape the other day?"

Well, Severus hadn't been around much lately as he most of the times looked after Mr. Potter. For weeks now he had only held the first year's potions classes and only recently had he taken back his NEWT classes as well. Thus, the Potions Master really had not had much of opportunities taking points from other houses and thus – Gryffindor was in the lead.

"Hey, Snape led Potter out of the castle yesterday morning … by his hand."

"You're kidding!"

"Have you seen Potter? Holding Snape's hand?"

And now, well, once again the rumours flew through the castle while those students who had seen the Potions Master lead the first year student out of the castle soon whispered to other students on their way to classes. Or in classes as she noticed with much annoyance, instead of paying attention to the lessons. Those students who heard from the incident however soon gave the information away to the next students who gave …

"Did you see the greasy git?"

"Hey, have you heard?"

"The dungeons bat held Potter's hand."

Well, the whispers in her class Minerva really quickly had ended with threatening to get them into detention for the rest of the term and with a few stern glances at them. She really could not blame them, honestly. It wasn't every day that one saw the sternest and most indifferent teacher showing affection to a first year. Most of the students most likely nearly had died of a heart attack after all. But nevertheless she was not pleased that they whispered during the lessons.

"Snape kidnapped Potter."

"Yes, I've seen it. He dragged Potter out of the castle by his hand."

"I wonder what he did with him. Surely he isn't allowed to torture students?"

"Don't be stupid, Mr. Weasley." She couldn't help saying in exasperation when she walked past the first years sitting on the Gryffindor table in the great hall during breakfast this morning. "Of course we do not torture the students. We either punish them with detention or we kill them at once. And strangling them for their stupidity is Professor Snape's favourite way of inflicting death upon the first years. Honestly, Mr. Weasley, would you please be as kind as to use your common sense?"

Ron watched his head of house walking away, shaking her head and he couldn't close his mouth that hang open while he gaped after her.

"How can McGonagall be so sure?" He asked, turning towards Hermione who only shook her head at him as Professor McGonagall had done a moment earlier. "It's Snape after all we're speaking about!"

"Exactly, Ron." She answered. "It's Professor Snape we're talking about. And he might not be friendly, but he surely isn't a monster. And besides – the Professors are not allowed to hurt the students. Really, Ron!"

"But Hermione!" Ron protested. "It's Snape! And the greasy git hasn't a heart! And without a heart he can't have feelings!"

"I have to agree with McGonagall." Fred's voice came from his left. "Don't be stupid Ron. Snape has as much a heart as has every other human being. And as Potter is a Slytherin he won't harm him."

"But …" Ron gasped. Sometimes his brothers could be so stupid.

"Just shut up, Ronikins." George disrupted from his right. "Sometimes you really are bordering on dishonouring the Weasley name. People might think we _all_ are stupid if they listen to you."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The owls had delivered the morning post and now they were gone back to the owlery or where else they belonged to, but Draco still sat on his place at the Slytherin table, feeling as if he couldn't breath, feeling as if he might throw up at every moment and just when Theodore leaned over the table towards him, asking him what was wrong, he looked up from the letter he held in his hand, from the letter he had read three times by now, and he shook his head.

"I'll see you later, Theo. Maybe." He said in a voice that seemed to tremble somehow and then he left the table, ignoring the worried look the other boy cast towards him and quickly he left the great hall without running. Just when he was outside in the corridor that led towards the dungeon, when he had left the entrance hall as well he started to run, went towards his dormitory in the dungeons. He needed the first letter before he went to his godfather, the only person that came to his mind right now and he needed the vial.

He didn't know if uncle Severus would kill him immediately or if he would hear him out first, but right now he didn't care. Right now he had to speak to him, but when he knocked at the Professor's door his heart beat like mad and he somehow felt numb. He didn't know what else to do and he didn't know what he would do if uncle Severus wouldn't do anything. Well, of course he would. He knew that his godfather loved Harry deeply. He wouldn't allow Harry to suffer or to die.

But he knew that maybe this was his own death sentence.

Well, he knew that if he would go to his father with something like that, he would kill him at once. When following the Dark Lord, when you chose becoming a Death Eater, then you had to chose between the Dark Lord and your family, then … because if you were a Death Eater, then your loyalty to the Dark Lord came first and your family just somewhere behind that. If you were summoned, then you did not even say 'good by' to your family. You grab your Death Eater robe and mask and leave immediately and if the Dark Lord gave you a task, then you told not even your family.

AND – when you had a father that was a Death Eater, then you better never went against your father's orders if you wished to survive the day.

And Draco knew that. And he knew that uncle Severus was as much a loyal follower to the Dark Lord as was his father.

But – well, that was unimportant now. He would deal with his death later, as soon as his godfather had the situation under control and Harry was safe.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The knock on his door made the Potions Master look up in surprise. It was just about eight in the morning, not a time at which he expected visitors and he lifted his eyebrow upon his "enter" and seeing Draco hesitantly stepping into his quarters. The boy was pale to death and he looked afraid of his own shadow, he was even slightly trembling. In other words, that was not the Draco Malfoy he knew.

Lucius Malfoy was a man that tried to raise his son into – what he called – a man, forgetting that the child has to be a boy before he could be a man. Something Lucius never would understand. And as Draco was a child that rarely got his parents affection let alone love, he of course did everything to please his parents. Even suppressing his own emotions. And thus – this display of emotions Draco now showed, it was worrying.

"Draco?" He asked, worry etched in his voice. "Sit down before you topple over, you look like you are close to just doing that. And then tell me, what is wrong?"

His godson really sat down, but he did so reluctantly, even just sitting onto the edge of the armchair, just like Harry always did and this fact told him enough. Yet – he was sure, if he pressed the boy, then he surely wouldn't get the answer he wanted. So he just waited and placed a cup of hot tea in front of the boy that was squirming in his seat.

"Please, uncle Severus." The boy finally began. "Before you kill me, just … well, just hear me out first. Please."

Lifting his eyebrow the Potions Master shook his head at the boy.

"Why in Merlin's name should I want to kill you, child?" He asked. "Whatever it is that happened, I am sure we will find a solution that will not end in your death."

"Well, because …" Draco began before he averted his eyes and the fact that the boy paused in his sentence and that he averted his eyes told Severus enough again. He knew Draco, and he knew that Lucius had taught the boy manners, had taught him to look at people when talking to them. And he knew that Draco was no one who shied from addressing what ever there was to address.

"Look at me, Draco." He said. "Take a deep breath and tell me what is wrong. Whatever it is, we will deal with it."

"Well …" Draco began again after he had taken a deep breath. "You are a follower of the … of You-Know-Who."

Alright, now he knew where the boy had the idea of getting killed by him and he had to keep himself from taking a deep breath by himself, had to keep himself from closing his eyes momentarily to get his feelings back under control. What he did not understand was, why the boy came to him now, this early in the morning, on a day when he had classes.

Had he had a nightmare about his father? About the Dark Lord? About being forced to become a Death Eater?

He wanted nothing more than to just take the boy and ease his worries but he knew that this was impossible. Not now at least. Draco might be his godson, and he might be sure that the boy would not wish to follow the Dark Lord, but still – he had to be careful. Too much was at the risk. His life was at the risk and even if he was sure that Minerva and Albus would keep Harry safe, the boy needed him and he needed him alive.

And – well, he wasn't so sure about Albus anymore.

"And?" He asked. He needed more information. "What is it that got you so upset about that? You have known since your earliest childhood, as long as you can remember, that I am a follower to the Dark Lord. Your father never kept this a secret from you."

"No. but up to now … well …" Sighing in frustration Draco reached a parchment towards him. "If this is my death, then be it."

"Draco, whatever happened, I won't kill you." Severus repeated.

"Just read this, uncle Severus." Draco whispered. "I got the letter this morning."

Sighing heavily and giving a sharp glance to his godson Severus took the parchment and unfold it, began to read.

Well, he had to keep up a hard fight to keep his emotions under control while he did so, otherwise his hands would have trembled, giving him away to Draco, even if he meanwhile really was sure where exactly the boy's problem lay.

'_Dear Draco'_ he read.

'_I have to express my congratulations to you, my son, for being so successful in my orders. I really am proud of you and so would be the Dark Lord if he still were with us. You have done very well._

_You might wonder how I came by this information as you yourself have been too much a Slytherin and did keep your secret without even informing my person, but I can inform you, that I have seen the result to your work personally a few days ago when I met Severus and Potter in Diagon Alley and I have had a good look on the brat._

_I know that Severus has to give him potions as Dumbledore surely is watching him close. But honestly, a stomach easing potion for a poisoning? Severus really knows how to fool the old idiot. The potion he gives the Potter boy might keep him from throwing up but otherwise it won't be much helpful. _

_I wish you to continue however with what you began and be sure that you will have not only me and your uncle being proud of you, but the Dark Lord himself as soon as he comes back to us again. I also wish you to know that if you have any problems administering the potion to the Potter brat at some time, you can go to Severus so he might help you in this task. For, getting rid of the Dark Lord's greatest enemy surely is one of Severus' first priorities too._

_If you are in need of anything, or if you have any wishes, then do not hesitate to express them to me._

_With explicit greetings_

_Your father'_

"What exactly is the meaning of this, Draco?" He finally asked, knowing that there was more to the story as he got out of this letter and he pierced the boy with the sternest gaze he ever had thrown towards a student. Here was poison mentioned and that wasn't a game anymore.

He knew that no one had poisoned Harry thus far. No one had been near the boy aside from Minerva, Filius, Draco once last Saturday and he himself. And he also knew that Draco had done nothing to harm Harry while he had been here. He also knew that Draco would not do so in the future either, otherwise the boy would not have come to him with that letter from his father that disturbed him so much that he was ready to draw a Death Eater's wrath onto him.

Draco didn't answer him, he just reached a second piece of parchment towards him. "That was the first letter, shortly after I came to Hogwarts." The boy whispered and the hand that reached the letter towards him shook violently.

Severus took the parchment and again he began to read.

'_Dear Draco'_ he again read.

_I hopefully believe you have settled successfully into your house by now. I am really assuaged that you have been placed into the house of Slytherin. Yet, I did not believe otherwise as you are my son and hair and no Malfoy had been denied this house as far as our good name exists. At least our family is one of the oldest poor blood families existing._

_I am sure your uncle Severus will have an eye upon you so you will come to no harm and you can feel comfortable, and I hope you know that you can address him with everything that concerns you._

_What was an as unexpected shock for your mother and me as it had been for you, is the shame that Harry Potter was placed in the house of Slytherin as well. I still cannot believe that the sorting hat made such a mistake and I only can advise you to be very careful when you are alone with him. Keep Crabbe and Goyle close to you all the time, Draco, and take no risks._

_Yet, along with the cookies your mother sends you with her explicit greets, I send you something that will help you keeping Potter in line and under control._

_It is a potion, known as the draught of growing pain. Be careful with this potion, and do not inadvertently consume anything the potion comes in contact with. Yet, I urge you to use the potion on Potter. It might also keep him off your back should he not behave or should he cross your line._

_One drop is enough to give him adequate pain so he will remind his place. With every drop of this draught you poison him with, his pain will increase. Yet, I remind you, that you should not use more than one drop per day on him, for we will not kill him too soon, but be prepared that he soon will wish to be dead._

_This had been the one request the Dark Lord had had before he had been banished by Potter. Potter is the Dark Lord's. He will have the favor of destroying him as soon as he is back with us._

_As it is, I have the opportunity of telling you, the pain you are able to inflict onto Potter is enough to satisfy you, as I have added a few ingredients by my own, so no pain reliever Pomfrey might give him will work._

_With explicit greetings_

_Your father'_

"Where - is this potion?" Severus simply asked after he got all the pieces of the puzzle together.

He knew, Harry might not be in danger as long as he was down here with him, but he might be in danger as soon as he left his quarters for either classes or for his dormitory. He needed the potion Lucius had sent Draco.

"I can't find it anymore." Draco whispered, even more pale by now.

"I beg your pardon, Draco?" The Potions Master asked, his voice dangerous low. "You do not really try to tell me that you just lost a very dangerous poison that – regardless to what your father told you – might be deathly?"

"Exactly that, uncle Severus." Draco answered after he swallowed dryly. "I kept it hidden in my trunk, and my trunk always is locked. But I can't find it anymore. It is gone. I'm sorry."

Giving away a heavy sigh Severus gritted his teeth. He now had two problems instead of one.

The first one - he had to keep Harry safe and in doing so he had to find the poison, and quickly.

And the second one - he had to know what exactly Draco wanted and in order to gain this information he had to play an act right now.

But first he had to ensure that Harry would not stumble up to them accidentally and he cast an alarm on the boy's room that would alert him if Harry woke and then he cast a silencing spell towards the door.

"Well, Mr. Malfoy." He began, getting formal, hoping that Draco would notice the change. "Care to tell me what the entire meaning of this is? Your father gave you a task which you did not fulfil. Then you even lost the potion you would need for this task. Not to mention that you never addressed me of this beforehand. So – care to explain where exactly your loyalties lay? Why you never did as your father ordered you to and why you never came to me earlier?"

He could see the fear in the boy's face that normally was the same mask all the Slytherins wore and it took a few minutes for Draco to give him an answer. When he did, his voice trembled as much as did his fingers that fidgeted with the hem of his robes.

"Well, I did not give the potion to Harry, because I think that no one deserves to be in pain, sir." He finally said, recognizing the formality his head of house addressed him with and responding to it. "I considered it at first, I knew that I should do as my father told me. And I thought, it was Potter after all. But then I had time to think. And then I knew that, never mind if my father thought it was a mistake, but the sorting hat put him in Slytherin. So he was one of us. And then there was the fact that Harry had been abused by his relatives and I knew that he was one of us."

The boy again swallowed thickly while he looked at his head of house who neither moved nor said something, who just sat there, piercing him with his black eyes, and that somehow was worse than if he had screamed at him. But at the same time he knew, Severus never screamed.

"And well, I know that I should not do that, but I do not ... like ... the way my father adores inflicting pain, sir. I know that I have no right to judge him, but I cannot see how he can be right when it seems to be so cruel. I know that you might think I am disloyal, but I do not want to become like him. I do love him, but I do not want to become like him. I do not want to become a Death Eater at all if that means that I have to become like my father."

He again swallowed, more than nervously under the Potions Master's dark and piercing gaze, the man sitting there, not moving, not speaking, doing nothing and he didn't know what would come next.

"Well, and I did not come to you, because I thought that – well, you are as much a follower to the … to Who-Know-Who as is my father and I know what that means. Disloyalty is punished with death, even if it is family. And … well, I thought if I just would hide the potion and then forget about it, then everything would be alright. Then I would not have to address you with it and … well … never mind."

There was a long pause of silence after Draco finally finished and he unsurely watched his head of house. He flinched when Severus finally leaned forwards to refill their cups with the tea and the Potions Master halted for a second in his movement, watched Draco closely before he refilled their cups and then sat back.

"It seems your father has missed teaching you some self-preservation." He finally said. "Or did _I_ miss to teach you this? Why in Merlin's name would you confess towards a known and loyal follower to the Dark Lord that you did not wish to become one by yourself with the knowledge that disloyalty is punished with death?"

"Because I know that you love Harry." Draco silently answered after a few moments of silence. "Because you had to know about this so you can keep Harry safe. I know that you would not allow Harry to be harmed. And I … well … I don't know …"

"You damn, stupid and silly child!" Severus finally said, startling Draco who looked at him with large eyes.

"Come here, you silly child!" He ordered, extending his hand and slowly Draco got up and walked over to the other armchair his godfather sat in. He kept his distance to the man, still unsure, maybe even more unsure than ever. Never before had uncle Severus called him a silly child.

"Come here, I said." Severus growled darkly, leaning forwards to take his godson's wrist and pulling the boy closer. He simply placed the boy beside him and put his arm around Draco's shoulders in a firm grip.

"Did you really think I would kill you because of this?" He simply said. "If you do not wish to become a follower to the Dark Lord, then I might be able to help you as long as you never mention this one to your father. You will have to play an act, Draco, but we will find a way for you that will keep you out of the Dark Lord's hands and alive at the same time. But you will speak to no one about this, not even to your friends, not yet at least as you do not know whom to trust yet. If one word of this goes to your father, then not only your life is in danger but mine as well. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Draco answered, not able to suppress a sob of relieve. Uncle Severus didn't kill him, he didn't even give him a hard time and he even promised to help him. He wasn't angry at him and he still seemed to love him.

"It seemed you did not really listen to the conversations during the first years meetings, you silly child!" Severus growled, finally shoving the boy away so he could hold him at arms length and watch him. "What was it I told you about the head of houses?"

"That, as my head of house in school, you would be able to keep me safe from my head of house at home."

"Exactly, Draco." Severus said. "You will have to be careful as will I, and you will have to accept me doing this in my own ways, but I will be able to keep you safe. Even from a fate you do not wish. Remember I always told you, all of you, that you have a choice, always, and that it is your future, not the future of your fathers. All of you just have to make your own choices and all of you just have to trust in those who really are able to help."

"But how can I know whom to trust?" Draco asked and for a moment Severus was reminded at the boy that was just now waking in the next room, causing the alarm to go off and he felt the soft tingling before he lifted both, the alarm and the silencing spell he had cast towards Harry's room. This boy too had asked him the very same questions a few days ago. Or were it weeks? He really didn't know, and honestly, he didn't care either.

"You do know whom to trust, if you listen to each word spoken as just a Slytherin does. Because only then you can learn how to hear between the words and how to read between the lines. And now I guess Harry is awake and it is time for breakfast. Those letters, I will keep them. The vial, do not mention it to anyone. I am sure we will find it and right now Harry is safe."

"Thank you, uncle Severus." Draco said, still pale and still shaking under his hands.

"You are welcome, Draco." Severus nodded before he finally pushed the boy back towards the armchair he had been sitting in and then released him.

"Zilly?" He called for his house elf and upon the soft 'pop' when the small creature made its appearance he turned towards his old servant. "Please do inform Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick that Mr. Malfoy is not well and will remain down here in my quarters for the rest of the day. And then we are prepared for breakfast."

Zilly nodded and with another 'pop' he vanished just as Harry left his room and Severus turned back towards Draco.

"Do not think that I will do this often, Mr. Malfoy, giving you a free pass for an entire day." He said, his voice as stern as were his eyes. "But I guess you have had a fright enough today and as your grades are not low I can allow you a day off to recover from your shock."

"Thank you, sir." Draco answered, still shaking, still unsure and still worried somehow.

Severus nodded at the boy, placed his hand for a moment on his shoulder to give a comforting squeeze and he noticed Draco's gaze going towards Harry's door.

"Good morning, Harry." He greeted and turned towards the smaller boy that lived down here in his quarters since nearly six weeks now, since nearly one and a half month. It was as if the boy belonged down here. The boy was at home here. And he soon would be, officially, if everything went well that was.

Well, he better did not think about that right now. Right now he had two boys that needed breakfast. He doubted that Draco had eaten much after he had gotten the letter. Honestly, the fact that he had been down here at not even eight indicated that he had rather not eaten at all.

"Why don't we go to the kitchen?" He suggested, leading them both towards the small addition to his rooms. "I am sure that Zilly has already finished preparing breakfast."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Breakfast had been calm and Draco had been able to relax a bit, realizing that his life really was not in danger, that uncle Severus would help him and that he wasn't even mad at him. He was sitting opposite Harry, the Potions Master sitting to his right, and a few times he wondered about a few gazes his godfather sent towards the other boy. He knew those gazes. They were warning gazes, some that clearly said "you know better that that" or "do not even think about it" but _he_ knew better than to ask about them.

Harry on the other hand was – yet again – as nervous as he had been on Saturday afternoon when Draco had been visiting for the first time. Back then he had been able to avoid eating much in front of Draco, had nibbled at a biscuit and a few strawberries. Neither had been an official meal and he had not been supposed to really eat much. But now – he knew that he had a few strange eating habits and he wasn't sure if the Professor wouldn't be disappointed in him if he wasn't even able to eat rightly like others.

Well, of course Professor Snape had tolerated his strange eating habits – when they were eating alone, when no one was around. But he wasn't sure if he would tolerate it when Draco was over. But honestly, how was he supposed to eat otherwise? How was he supposed to take the piece of toast in his hand and take a bite from it? It was just too large and never before had he had such a large piece of toast or bread in his hands. He always had been glad if he got half a toast to eat at the Dursleys.

And now holding an entire piece of toast, just holding it in his hands, it seemed wrong, it seemed too much, it seemed as if suffocating and he just couldn't do it. So the Professor had begun cutting his toast in quarters. Or bread in slices so he could eat the pieces slowly one by one. Soon Harry had learned that he could do so by himself and now he did it all the time. But – normally they were alone. Not so now. Now Draco was here during breakfast and now he didn't know how to react.

The Potions Master of course was aware of Harry's unsureness upon Draco's presence and he soon noticed the fearful gazes the boy cast towards him, towards Draco and towards the food on his plate. The boy even tried to avoid eating at all at first until he gave him a warning look.

He knew well what exactly kept Harry from eating in front of Draco and he sighed heavily. The boy needed each meal he could get into him and at the same time he knew that the boy had problems eating not only normal amounts of food but in a normal way as well. It wasn't that the boy 'played' with the food. It just was that the boy couldn't eat when the food seemed to suffocate him. Well, this it was what happened when a child was neglected and starved over years. Said child never would be able to eat normal. So, he just had to deal with it now and find a way to get the boy used to food, eating and doing so in the presence of others. It didn't matter to him how the boy ate, as long as he ate at all.

So he just tipped his finger at the knife beside the boy's plate to indicate that he could use it. It wasn't important if Draco was here and saw him eating his toast in quarters. He doubted that Draco even would notice it at all. He knew that he nevertheless would have to remember him eating from time to time, as always, but finally the boy had finished his toast and a few forks full of scrambled eggs.

"I do not have classes today." Severus finally said. "Maybe we can go down to the lab and brew the dragon pox potion later. It will be brewed in your next lesson anyway, Draco, this way you are prepared and you, Harry, have to do this one this week. You could work together." _'So I can see if you are able to work together with any of the other students if you go back to classes.'_ He thought without adding it aloud. He soon would have to try this anyway.

Both boys nodded. Draco with a smile on his face and Harry rather reluctantly.

Well, of course the boy was reluctant. This was a new situation and each new situation meant to leave his safe haven for the boy, meant that he had to walk a line where he could fall deeply and where he could get hurt in the process. But he also knew that it was necessary for the boy to learn this, to step out, to walk this line and – well, somehow to fall, never mind how much he wanted to keep the boy safe from such a fall, from getting hurt.

Zilly popped in a moment later and gave him the morning post as he always did and he thanked the little house elf, lifting his eyebrow in a questioning manner at the curious look on Draco's face.

"Why don't you get your post per owl, uncle Severus?" The boy asked.

"And through which windows, Mr. Malfoy, are the owls supposed to reach the dungeons?" Severus asked back with amusement in his voice.

"Oh." Draco made.

"Oh, indeed."

The Potions Master's face got serious again when he noticed the official seal from the ministry and after a moment of hesitation he broke the wax seal, opened the letter. For a moment he had considered to open the letter later when he was alone. But he knew that he needed his concentration when he brew with the two boys later. And he knew that he wouldn't be able to do so if he did not know the content of the letter.

So he opened the parchment and began reading.

'_Dear Professor Snape,_

_We have considered your request of adopting the child Harry James Potter, born on 31st of July 1980, son to Lily Potter nee Evans and James Potter, both death since 31st of October 1981._

_Said child has lived with his aunt Petunia Dursley nee Evans, sister to Lily Potter nee Evans and her husband Vernon Dursley up to 1st of November 1991 when he attended Hogwarts and you claimed guardianship over him._

_We also have verified the copy of the memories and the medical reports you have sent over together with your request and we agree with you that the child cannot be sent back into their custody. We also have decided that we will agree to your demand for charging both adult Dursleys of child neglect, child abuse, rape and attempted murder. Your testimony, this of the school medi-witch Madam Pomfrey as well as Harry James Potter's is required. The child's testimony will be held in privacy in your quarters where the child currently lives. You will be informed of the date of the hearing during the next few days._

_Concerning the adoption itself:_

_We have agreed to your request of temporary guardianship over Harry James Potter and Dudley Dursley._

_Considering your status as not only a respectable Potions Master but a teacher at Hogwarts and a head of house no less is promising but there are several points in your clearing certificate which we would like to discuss even if you have been cleared of all charges. We do hope that you understand the safety procedure we have to take._

_Thus I will visit you and the child on Wednesday, 17th of October. Please await me at ten in the morning._

_Sincerely yours_

_Elsa Harvest _

_Ministry of magic_

_Department of child welfare'_

Severus leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily while his gaze automatically went to Harry, a worried look on his face.

The boy wasn't ready for such yet, he knew it.

He wasn't really concerned about Miss Harvest's visit, they would manage this. And he knew Elsa Harvest as he had spoken to her about other Slytherins that had been in need of either adoption or a foster family. But he was worried about the questioning concerning Harry's abuse by the hands of his relatives. Of course they had talked about it by now. But that was different. Harry would have to do so in front of not just him but in front of strangers. And he had a feeling that the boy would not take this well.

The fact that his clearing certificate came up at the table, well – that he had expected, that was what he had feared and he only could hope that all would go well. Yet – he feared it would not. It wasn't mentioned for nothing and once again he regretted having made this particular mistake in his youth. This time not only he would have to pay for it, but the boy too.

Giving away another sigh he dismissed the thought and schooling his expression into his usual emotionless mask he turned towards the two boys.

"Well, if you two are finished with your breakfast, then I suggest we go down to my laboratory and begin brewing." He said, his voice calm.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Brewing the first year's dragon pox potion had been easy and Harry was glad that he had managed to work along with Draco. The other boy had kept his distance and he never had pushed him when he had been at a loss how to move in order to get new ingredients. If it was like that to work together with others, then he surely would be able to manage. He was sure. And then he soon could go back to classes. The Professor surely would be proud of him then.

Well, on the other hand - that meant that Professor Snape wouldn't want him in his quarters anymore, he knew it. And he didn't look forward to it. Really not. It made him waking up each night, alone the thought of it. And it made him ill whenever he thought at it. Because as soon as he was back in his dormitory, then soon the Professor would forget him and then he would not want him anymore in his quarters at all, and then, in the end, he would go back to hating him as he had done in the beginning.

And he did not want this.

Again he felt ill to the stomach at the thought, again his head began to hurt, and again he nearly cried.

"Harry?" Draco asked in a low voice.

They were in Harry's room while uncle Severus was meeting with the headmaster.

Harry just shook his head and Draco looked at him with a gaze in his grey eyes that clearly said 'I don't believe you' while he gave an annoyed sigh.

"Don't tell me it's nothing." He said. "We're friends, aren't we?"

The raven haired boy looked at him in clear shock, blinking at him, not moving for more than at least one minute and Draco would have laughed if he wouldn't have known that the other boy probably was close to a panic attack.

"Well?" He simply asked, reminding Harry at the Professor who often reacted similar when he got no answer to his questions.

'You really want to be my friend?' Harry wrote and reached the notebook to Draco.

The blond boy read the question and lifted his eyebrow at the dark haired boy.

"Of course." He said. "Otherwise I wouldn't have said so."

'But' Harry wrote unsurely, pausing, not knowing how to react. 'how can you want to be my friend? I'm' he paused again.

"You're what?" Draco asked after glancing over at the notebook, annoyance clearly in his voice. "You're not able to speak? So what? You can write. You're afraid of others? So what? A lot of us Slytherins are. You can't go to classes right now? So what? If I got it right, a lot of Slytherins are absent for some time. What's your problem, Potter?"

'But no one want to be my friend.' Harry wrote.

"Well, I do, get used to, Potter." Draco answered, levelling the other boy with an even glare.

'But I never had one before.' Harry wrote back. 'I don't even know what friends do.'

"Listen, Potter. You're just afraid of being friends with someone. Because you fear you might do something wrong and then your friend turns his back on you. But let me tell you something – I won't! And either won't Theodore! You don't have to be afraid of that. And Friends tell each other when they are in trouble or when they are miserable."

There was a pause for a few more minutes, Draco watching Harry secretly while he pretended reading in Harry's transfiguration book and Harry thinking through what Draco had said to him.

'I just do not want to go back to the dorm.' He finally wrote, still unsure but daring his luck. 'Professor Snape will forget me then and then he won't want me back down here and in the end he will hate me again. I will lose everything I ever had. I never had had someone who cared.'

Smiling sheepishly Draco read what Harry had written. He had gotten the other boy to answer his question. Not in the most Slytherin way, but well – he had managed.

"I don't think so." He answered. "He loves you, does he not?"

'I don't know. I don't even know what love is. I mean, is it a thing? Can you see it? Can you touch it? What does it do? Does it belong to someone? And if yes, then to whom? Or maybe you can borrow it?'

Draco stared at Harry for a long moment.

They were on the floor in Harry's room again, laying flat on their stomachs and Draco had crept closer every few minutes until now he lay directly beside Harry, reading what the other boy wrote while he did so. Communication this way was much easier instead of waiting what Harry wrote and then reading it before being able to give an answer.

But – well, to give an answer to this questions …

"Honestly? I don't know, Harry." Draco said slowly, his voice low but serious while he leaned his chin onto his hand. "I'm sure it isn't a thing. It's an emotion. You can feel it. And I guess you can see it. When someone hates you, then you can see it on this ones face and the same goes for when someone loves you. You can see it. But I don't know if you can touch it. I guess not."

He paused for a moment and Harry tipped at the next question on the notebook with his pencil.

"I'm not sure." Draco answered. "I guess it makes you feel weird. It is as if you had butterflies in your stomach."

'That's not love.' Harry wrote, shaking his head. 'That's fear.'

"Yes, I guess then too you have butterflies in your stomach. But love does make that too."

'But that's a bad feeling. I don't want to feel this one.'

"Do you think uncle Severus loves you?" Draco asked, watching him from the side.

'I don't know. Sometimes he – I know that sounds stupid and'

"Stop babbling, Potter!" Draco growled, interrupting Harry's writing. "Sometimes he what?"

'Well, he sees me. He does not just look at me, but he actually sees me. And he does listen - well, better look or read. However, he does not ignore what I tell him. And he does not forget what I tell him. And when I have a dream, then he is there. And he speaks to me and – well – he holds me.' Harry finished, blushing.

"Well, then he loves you." Draco said, ignoring the other boy's blushing. "And how does that feel? Is that really that bad that you do not want to feel it?"

'I don't know.' Harry wrote. 'I don't know what I feel. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel. And I don't know what it is what I feel. It is strange.'

Draco looked at him with large eyes. "You never have been hold by someone before?" He asked incredulously. His father did not really show much love to him and neither did his mother. But sometimes they held him.

But Harry shook his head, blushing again and averting his eyes.

"Well, then I guess you better get used to it." Draco finally said. "I doubt that uncle Severus will ever abandon you, never mind if you are here or in our dorm. Wanna play chess? I can show you how I played it the first few times."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

When Severus came over and stood in the doorway, watching the two boys, a small smile threatened to tuck at his lips. Harry and Draco were laying on the floor side by side, the boy's notebook beside the chessboard, abandoned while he tried to make himself understood with hands and feet as it seemed, while at the same time the chess pieces seemed to fight a battle on their own, disregarding strategy and common sense in favour of fun.

Harry was giggling, nearly rolling on the floor while Draco chuckled at the newest stunt Harry's knight had pulled, stumbling when he dragged Draco's knight off the board and losing its grip. As it seemed, Draco showed Harry his first attempts playing wizarding chess and Harry seemed to enjoy it. Finally something had caused a truly childish reaction from that boy that so rarely showed any emotions besides of fear and pain and uncertainty.

Later that day, in the evening after Severus had decided that he should teach the boy how to play chess correctly and the board was placed on the small coffee table in the living room, Harry asked him if they could play chess the way Draco had showed him. Severus just lifted his eyebrow and couldn't help snorting at the very idea. But upon seeing the relaxed expression on the boy's face, the small smile in the child's eyes his own face softened and a small smile tucked at his own lips.

"Surely not, Mr. Potter." He answered with a huff. "But I am glad that Draco and you are getting along and you can feel free enough to have fun and laugh."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Where is the missing potion?_

_And what had wandless magic to do with speechless magic?_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you


	31. magic of the elements

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be appreciate it to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

This chapter I have written with Silverstargirl in my mind and I really hope that you do not mind me mentioning this here. But you always have brought out the best in my writings and your words always have been really, really encouraging ... thus - *shruggingshoulders* - I just couldn't help it ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Severus just lifted his eyebrow and couldn't help snorting at the very idea. But upon seeing the relaxed expression on the boy's face, the small smile in the child's eyes his own face softened and a small smile tucked at his own lips. "Surely not, Mr. Potter." He answered with a huff. "But I am glad that Draco and you are getting along and you can feel free enough to have fun and laugh."_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter thirty-one**

**Magic of the elements**

"Do you trust me?" Professor Snape asked, causing Harry to look up at him startled.

It wasn't the question itself that startled him. He was used to the Professor asking this particular question by now and honestly, he _did_ trust the older wizard by now. It was rather the absolute dead seriousness with which the man asked this question and the fact that he asked this question in front of Professor McGonagall, what he had done never before and for a moment he blinked at the Potions Master in confusion.

Of course Severus knew by now that Harry trusted him. If nothing else proved the trust the boy felt towards him, then the boy's action during the night of the thunderstorm had done so. For the very first time the boy had acted like the child he was around him by his own, scrambling into his bed driven by being scared of a thunderstorm, pressing his small body as closely into his arms as possible, wincing each time the thunder had rolled and echoed through the castle.

But that now was not the kind of trust he normally meant.

They were about to do a kind of magic that was dangerous, that was difficult and that could go terribly wrong. What was the reason why Minerva was here too. Just to be sure.

"I know you do, Harry." Severus said, sensing the boy's curiosity. "And I do not mean this kind of trust either. What we are about to do is a very dangerous and difficult kind of magic, what is the reason Professor McGonagall is here too. I need you to absolutely trust me and to obey my very command, never mind what it is I tell you to do. Do you think you can do this?"

"Yes, sir." The boy nodded enthusiastically. He had been this enthusiastic since he had told him this morning that they would try something else for him to achieve results, concerning his speechless magic. "I do trust you."

The Potions Master smiled.

He cast a quick glance at the deputy headmistress, waited for her confirmation before he again looked at the boy. He surely would teach the boy without her permission, but it meant a lot to him that she not only allowed it but was ready to help with it. First, if the deputy headmistress and head of Gryffindor house stood at his side, then Albus had no chance to do anything against it, second, if something happened he could be sure that Minerva would be the right person to be of help and to know what had to be done. He – well, he had to concentrate onto the boy while Minerva cold concentrate onto the performed magic itself.

It was much easier this way, and much safer.

"Good." He said, piercing the boy in front of him. "Do you know the four elements that regulate the earth and our very existence?"

"Water, earth, fire and wind." Harry answered, a mixture of happiness and nervousness on his face. He knew this answer, he had read about it, but he wasn't sure why the Professor asked this. And why Professor McGonagall was here. She normally never was there when he had a lesson with Professor Snape. And normally she never sat just there watching them.

Well, maybe it was some kind of test. She was the deputy headmistress after all. Maybe she wanted to test him somehow.

"Air." Severus corrected the boy. "The very air is the element, not only wind. You do not need wind for working with this particular element. You can form the very air around you."

"I can?" The boy asked and his eyes were so large, Severus had to lift his eyebrow at the boy to keep himself from laughing.

"Surely not, Harry." He answered. "Not now at least. But today we will try to work with one of the four elements. And if I am right, then – Well, suffice to say, we will try this branch of magic today and see what comes out of this."

He didn't want to get the boy's hopes high just to have him crashed when it didn't work. And working with the elements for the first time, should not be done under pressure. The boy needed to be lighthearted, without worries and fears.

"Well, I will not allow you to work with air in the beginning as it is the most dangerous element when released, the most draining. And neither will I allow you to work with earth for now. Earth is the very first element here in the wizarding world, followed by water. Without earth nothing could grow and life, without earth nothing would exist. You first have to set a seedling into the earth, before you water it. Do you understand what I mean?"

The boy nodded at him and he continued.

"Good." He said. "Then you now can chose between water and fire. The two most different elements."

"And what am I expected to do with them then, sir?" Harry asked unsurely, watching him with his still much too large eyes, strange emotions going over his face and for a moment the Potions Master wondered what it was.

"Play with them." He simply answered. "Under my instruction, but simply – play."

Well, it definitely had the desired effect as the boy's eyes went back to normal, the fear disappeared a bit and Harry gave a small smile while the Potions Master itself had to swallow hard for a moment, remembering another incident not so long ago.

**Flashback**

_He was standing – as he so often did lately – in the doorway to Harry's room, his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the doorframe, watching the child that sat at the floor near the shelves where the toys they had bought at Diagon Alley were placed in. Yet – he sat far enough away so he would not have to touch them. The boy never had touched them since he had bought them yesterday and then placed them in the shelf and he had a good idea as to why Harry never touched them._

_"You know, Mr. Potter, they are there to be played with." He drawled, not able to keep his sarcasm out of his voice in order to hide the anger he felt that – yet again – grew at the boy's relatives._

_Well, the boy gave a slight flinch away, but either he was used to his sometime sarcastic comments meanwhile or the boy simply was too deep in his own thoughts as to notice. He just looked up at him, a questioning expression on his face._

_"They won't break and they won't bite you either." Severus said. "You can play with them."_

_"What is …" Harry signed but then stopped, and Severus immediately knew that there was a word the boy didn't know and he tried to figure out which word it was. Yet – he wasn't able to, the boy knew every word. He had used all of them up to now._

_Upon his own questioning gaze the boy went over to his desk and took his notebook._

'_What is play?' He read when Harry reached the notebook towards him. 'How do you to play with them?'_

_Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth he tried to keep his rising anger under control and slowly he entered the room. He immediately noticed that Harry had gotten scared upon him closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. The boy was just too observant and he sat beside Harry onto the floor, placing a calming hand on the small shoulder._

_"Well, __at first you will have to take them out of the shelf." He tried to explain, taking two of the collecting dragons from the shelf and placed one in front of Harry and the other he kept in his hand. "Then you watch it, you touch it, you move its limbs and head and you do with it whatever you want. Imagine that it is alive, that it moves, that it maybe speaks, that it listens, whatever you want it to do. Try it." He said, pointing at the dragon that still stood in front of the child and inwardly he seethed at those wretched muggles that had neglected the boy to a point where he didn't even know how to play. _

_Sometimes he really even wondered how the boy had become as intelligent as he actually was considering his past and this time was one of those sometimes. _

_But then – it wasn't such a wonder really. Most likely the boy had become that intelligent in order to survive in the first place. No, it really was no wonder._

_Harry had watched him with startled eyes as if questioning his sanity upon suggesting such a thing as touching a toy. He knew that the boy never touched anything, never mind what. And not even the things that clearly belonged to him, like the toys, the books or the new clothes he never touched without asking before he did and he wondered how often the child had gotten into trouble and – most likely – a beating until he had learned from that abominable muggles that he wasn't allowed to touch anything, not even toys, clothing or food. They really and truly had beaten a children's instinct out of him._

_"It is yours, and you are allowed to touch it and to play with it." He quietly said, trying to keep his emotions under control. _

_Slowly Harry reached out his hand and actually touched __the dragon he had placed in front of the boy before he pulled his hand back, watching him with frightened eyes from under his fringes of black hair. _

_"Just like that." The dark Potions Master said, trying to confirm the boy that it was alright, that nothing would happen, that he surely would not beat him for touching his own toys and for a moment he felt ill. "Take it and feel its texture." He silently said, not knowing how to show a child how to play_

_He was not used to being a father. And a father to a child that had been neglected and mistreated by his former guardians at that. He was a dark and tough man, a former Death Eater, a former follower to the Dark Lord, he was a spy. Attending the Dark Lord's and his Death Eater's meetings in order to spy for the light and at the same time trying to stay alive was what he was used to. Causing pain in order to keep his cover, even killing in order to keep his cover was what he was used to. And enduring to Dark Lord's cruel punishments and tortures was what he was used to. Enduring pain was what he was used to. But not this._

_It took him a few more moments but finally the boy did and slowly picked the dragon off the floor, his eyes still fearfully darting at him every now and then, but well – he had picked the dragon up and now held it in his hands, stiffly at first and – for Merlin's sake – if he had to throw dignity and seriousness over board then be it. So he stretched out on the floor, leaned his head into his hand and nudged Harry's knee with the dragon he held in his hand._

_The boy looked at him with large eyes and the question if he still had all his senses was clearly written over the child's forehead. _

_But then the boy mimicked him, laid on his stomach and he nudged his dragon with his own, casting an unsure gaze at him, as if he wanted to ask if he 'played' correct. _

_"Well, just like that, yes." He answered the unspoken question, causing the boy to give a tiny smile for at least three seconds and Severus couldn't help but forcing himself to ignore the tightness in his chest._

**End flashback**

They had 'played' for a bit longer, the boy actually _learning_ how to play in the first place, learning that it was ok to move the dragon's limbs and head, learning that it was alright to move the dragon over the floor, learning that it was allowed to make noises while doing so and learning that he was supposed to just have fun.

At some point Severus had excused himself with the question if Harry was alright to play with both dragons for a while so he could grade the seventh year's essays, but he hadn't got any work done this evening. He just too often had been standing in the doorway while watching the child playing for the first time in his life.

"Yes, simply play with them." He repeated, just to get himself back under control.

"But I don't know what to chose." The boy asked, watching him unsurely.

"Let us go over those two elements." Severus said. "You definitely love water and you are able to relax in a warm bathtub. You like to play in the water and you like to simply lay in there and enjoy the warmth. You love the water running through your hands whenever you wash them, but you do not like the water on your face or near it."

Harry nodded at him, casting a quick glance towards Minerva, apparently uncomfortable with the Transfiguration Teacher knowing his bathing habits and the Potions Master smiled.

"You do have not much good memories when it comes to fire either." He simply continued. "And nevertheless you are able to relax when you sit in front of the fireplace in the evenings and you are able to allow the dancing flames to carry your thoughts away. Something that is very important. You are able to dream, to think and thus to – simply heal. That is what fire does to you. It is as much a cleansing element as it water, just that the fire is cleaning your mind and your heart instead of your skin like water does."

"That doesn't help in choosing one." The boy signed.

"Hm." The Potions Master made, pinching the bridge of his nose. But then he smiled. "Close your eyes." He said, lifting his eyebrow at the questioning and startled look the boy gave him, and he pierced him with his dark eyes until the boy had his eyes closed.

He closed his own eyes for a moment, in concentration and a moment later he held his hands outstretched, his palms up and he smiled, watching the small flame dancing on his left palm while over his right one a few droplets of water made their own dance.

"Open your eyes now, Harry." He said.

The boy did, and a second later his eyes grew large again and he gave a small cry away.

Harry didn't even bother with giving signs away, he just scrambled to his feet, startled, his face pale, and he ran towards the man, while at the same time the droplets of water went over to the fire and with a fizzing noise the flame went out, leaving the Professor's hand, lower arm and the ground to his feet covered in water. He didn't even notice this but grasped the man's large hand in his own small ones and looked at it.

But there was no burn mark and he turned the hand over, his own hands trembling.

How could the Professor have been so stupid to burn himself? He was an adult! He shouldn't …

And where was the burn mark anyway? He didn't really understand.

The next moment Professor Snape was kneeling in front of him, taking his hands in his and stopping their searching movements.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus nearly smiled when the boy's eyes grew larger again, but his smile soon faltered when he noticed the startled expression on Harry's face and the boy quickly went over to him with a small cry of fear, not knowing what was wrong. He didn't even know how Harry managed to move so quickly after being used to the child's normally so slow and careful movements.

Well, yes. The boy definitely was better, the boy's health had improved greatly during the past weeks, but he knew that Harry still was in some kind of pain, knew the boy still had trouble moving too quickly, and he knew that Harry over the years had learned to move carefully, avoiding unnecessary movements in order to avoid further pain when he was injured at the Dursleys.

And now he nearly toppled over his own feet in his haste to reach him.

The next moment his hand was drenched in water, as was his lower arm as well as the floor and he understood.

The boy had feared that he would burn himself with the flame that danced only millimeters above his palm and unintentionally he had taken the water from his right palm and had extinguished the flame on his left, not even noticing what he had done, not even noticing that he had used elementary magic, and not even noticing that he even had increased the amount of water that originally had been there out of fear it wouldn't be enough.

And right now the boy was holding his hand in his own trembling ones, turning it over and over again searching for a burn, fear and shock clearly visible on his face and he noticed how small the child's hands were before he realized – the boy really was worried, worried over him!

Kneeling in front of the boy he took the small and frantic moving hands into his own and then placed his fingers under Harry's chin to gain his attention.

"Hush, child." He said, locking his dark eyes with the green ones, holding the fearful gaze. "I am not burnt, Harry. Look, my hand is perfectly fine. The flame did not even touch my hand, have a closer look."

He forced himself to ignore the boy's trembling and holding the child's both hands in his right he again turned his left hand palm upwards, and forced his magic to work with his imagination.

The flame that appeared dancing over his palm was smaller this time, not larger than the flame of a candle and he forced it to hover at least two inches over the skin of his hand.

He felt the still shocked child in front of him stiffen as soon as the flame reappeared, felt the boy trying to get his hands out of his grip, but he tightened his own fingers around Harry's hands, hindering him to get them free.

"Hush, child." He whispered, his eyes still locked into the startled and scared green ones. "Look, and look close. Does the flame touch my hand?"

The boy took a few seconds before he actually looked at the flame that still danced happily over his palm, and he took another few seconds until he finally was able to shake his head.

"Good." Severus said, his voice still barely more than a deep whisper. "Does the flame harm me in any way?"

Again it took a few seconds until the boy was able to shake his head once more, but the Potions Master could feel the child relax a bit, could feel some of the tension leave the small body in front of him.

"Good." Severus said again. "And now watch."

He closed his hand and the flame vanished, was gone, and then he opened his hand and showed the uninjured palm to the boy in front of him.

"Nothing happened." He said. "And nothing _will_ happen. I am perfectly fine and so will be you."

"I'm sorry." Harry at once signed and Severus shook his head.

"There is no need to be sorry, child." He confirmed. "You have been startled and you have been afraid that the flame would harm me. There is absolutely not reason to apologize and surely you are not in trouble, Harry. In the contrary."

He knew that he reached a dangerous level, but he would not back away now.

"You have done very well." He said. "First of all, I guess, I owe you a word of thanks for your concern. I might not have been in danger, but you didn't know that and thus – I thank you for your quick actions. However, I guess you do not know what exactly you did, Harry." He waited a moment, watching the boy in front of him close, taking in all the emotions that changed from one second to the next, displayed on the small face as openly as never before.

"You have done that, what I just wanted to teach you." Severus continued, before the boy could misunderstand his last words. "You have used elementary magic, forcing the water from my right hand to my left and to not only cover the flame to extinguish it, but to add in amount too. I guess you do not know how proud I am of you, child."

It was the first time he saw the boy's face redden with shyness instead of going pale with fear and the moment he felt Harry trying to spin around and to run into his room he simply grasped him at his shoulders and pulled him close.

"Hush, child!" He ordered. "Don't run from words of praise all the time. And now, do you want to try it for yourself?"

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Minerva watched the scene in front of her, and for a moment she remembered the scene from a few weeks earlier, where Severus had startled the child into a sobbing mess by threatening him with his belt before he had thrown the thing into the fire. And only in order to teach the boy a lesson, the lesson that he never ever would beat any child. How different this very scene here now was. She nearly could feel the worry when the boy latched himself at the Potions Master and she nearly could feel the affection the Potions Master showed towards the boy when he tried to calm him.

Never before had she seen her younger colleague displaying his emotions as openly as he did just now and she nearly had to swallow when the man knelt in front of the boy and took the small hands into his own. It definitely was a sight she never would forget again.

The cold and dark Potions Master cradling a tiny first year to his chest! And suddenly she understood why all the Slytherins not only respected and trusted their head of house, but why they even loved him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry pushed himself out of the Professor's embrace and looked startled at him. He was allowed to do this by himself? But how? How could he perform such a thing as to let a flame dancing inches above his hand? How could he …

Slowly he nodded.

Severus watched the boy in front of him for a few more moments, taking in the mixture of fear and enthusiasm that lingered on the small face and he sighed.

"Well, then I need you to listen, and to listen closely." He finally said. "Come here and sit on the floor. We have more room here than on the sofa."

The boy seated himself onto the rug in front of the fireplace, crossing his feet and Severus did the same, still watching the boy.

He knew that the boy would be able to achieve it, given time and enough practice. Harry's actions earlier had proved this and he wondered how strong this child's magical abilities were. He didn't know much adult wizards who were able to perform elementary magic as it was a branch of magic where no words and no wand was needed but only a wizard's mind and will and the wizarding world had depended itself too much onto wands for the past few hundreds of years. Not many wizards were able to perform wandless _and _speechless magic.

But on the other hand, he knew how dangerous it was too.

He didn't know how much the boy would be able to control his mind and thus the flame as soon as he had it conjured. Maybe the boy got into a panic attack and lost his control, maybe he overestimated himself and got reckless, maybe …

Never mind what, the child easily could set the room at flames.

Casting a questioningly look towards Minerva he waited for her nod. If Minerva was ready to watch the outcome of the magic that might enfold itself soon, then he was ready to watch over the boy himself while he performed this magic.

"I need you to trust me now, Harry." He said. "I need you to trust me with every string of your being and to obey my ever command. To play with the elements is dangerous, very dangerous, and a lot can go wrong. You need to know this before we begin. The flame won't hurt you, I promise it, and Minerva as well as I will watch over you. But you have to do as I say, can you do this?"

"Yes, sir." The boy signed.

"You won't be able to sign as soon as the flame is on your hand, I ask you to not even try it. I will try to only ask questions to which you can nod or shake your head. You, just have to keep your hands still or make only the movements I tell you."

The boy nodded and so did the Potions Master. He waved his own hand and the flames in the fireplace went out, leaving Harry to look questioningly at him.

"I do not want you to see the large fire in there when playing with fire yourself." He explained, waving his hand and casting a warming charm over the room before he summoned a candle, made it hovering midair between them and lit it with another movement of his hand.

"You can concentrate onto this single flame, it will help you to perform a flame of your own. And I have cast a warming charm so you won't freeze and accidentally enlarge your flame in order to warm your self." He said. "Good. Now, hold your open hand out in front of you, palm up. You do not have to think of a spell or anything else, just hold out your open hand."

He watched the boy holding out his smaller hand, his palm upwards, the small fingers slowly uncurling itself until the hand was held openly midair.

"Good. Now watch the flame of the candle, concentrate upon the image and try to block everything aside from this flame and my voice out of your mind. Focus onto only the flame and try to shift the image from in front of your eyes into your mind until you can see it inside your head. Try to see its dance, to feel the warmth, hear the soft crackling. Imagine the flame burning, being alive, the colors that dance in the flame."

Harry allowed the Professor's voice to keep him calm, to wash over him, to carry him into his own mind somehow until he really could see that flame dancing within his mind, until he really could hear the soft crackling noise and he smiled, not daring to look up at the man that was sitting in front of him.

"Now, imagine this flame dancing on your palm, hovering there inches over the skin so it won't burn you." Severus continued, noticing Minerva sitting beside them with her wand in her hand and he concentrated back onto the boy. "Try to shove the image from your mind onto your hand. Both are parts of you, and you will be able to perform it, you just have to imagine you shoving the flame over and then dancing on your hand."

Again Harry did as he was told, not noticing that he nearly was in some kind of trance, not noticing that he didn't recognize anything else than this deep and calming voice and the flame that was in his mind and then suddenly, from one moment to the other, was hovering over his hand.

He didn't notice the small gasp that came from Professor McGonagall, didn't even notice her sitting beside him, and he didn't notice the small smile that tucked on Professor Snape's mouth, not even remembering that the man was sitting in front of him, not able to associate the voice with the older wizard.

"And now try to come back to reality." Severus continued. "Try to continue concentrating on the flame that is on your hand, but try to follow my voice back until you notice I am here, until you are able to see me as well as you see the flame."

He watched the boy with narrowed eyes, hoping that he wouldn't have to snap his fingers to get him back what only would startle Harry. He couldn't believe that the boy had conjured the flame on his hand on the very first attempt. It was unheard of. Not even _he_, who was quite adept when it came to wandless magic and to mind magic, had managed this and when it came to mind magic that was required for elementary magic, then he was an expert.

Well, he had not had someone to guide him back then, he had learned it by himself, but – well, he had known that the boy had a very strong magical mind. He just had to bring him back now. And hopefully without startling him.

"Just listen to my voice and follow it, come back and …"

"But it is so peaceful here." Severus heard a small and rough whisper and for a moment he gasped in shock, cast a quick glance towards Minerva who looked at him in shock. He had to force himself to act reasonably and get himself back under control.

"I know that it is peaceful, Harry, and as much as I would like to allow you relishing in this feeling, you have to come back." He whispered, not even noticing how much his own voice trembled, not noticing his own voice going deeper a few notions.

"Do I really have to?" The boy asked in the same rough whisper.

"Unfortunately, yes, you have to." Severus answered, fighting hard to keep his emotions under control and from showing on his face. The boy spoke. The boy really spoke, using his voice. The boy …

He blinked to get himself back to the task at hand he had to concentrate at. Never mind how much he liked to have the boy lingering there, just for being able to speak with him, and to speak with him in peace, not in this panicked need to utter a "please" or a "no", to have the boy answering him, he knew it would do no good, not to the boy.

"You cannot linger there, Harry." He said, nearly hitching a breath. "Trust me and do as I say, follow my voice back into reality, you are as safe in our quarters as you are in your mind and it will be as peaceful too. It only is another kind of peace. Trust me, you will be quite fine, just come back."

"Ok, dad." Came the small rough voice and this time Severus had to restrain himself from closing his eyes and just pulling the boy into his arms. He couldn't close his eyes now when he had to watch the boy and he couldn't just pull him close without startling the child – his son, damn! The boy would be his son soon and he …

A few moments later Harry blinked at him, still a smile on his face and Severus schooled his face into his usual mask, nodding at the boy. It wouldn't do any good if he lost his professionalism now and just got emotional. They were not done yet, but soon.

The boy was back in reality, smiling at him, realizing that it wasn't his mind anymore and still the flame lingered over his hand, hovering, dancing happily.

"That was perfect, Harry." Severus said. "Now try to move your hand a bit to the side and will the flame to follow the movements of your hand."

The boy looked up at him, questioningly, but the verbalized question how he should do so didn't come and Severus nearly sighed. He had known that the boy had spoken unconsciously only, not even knowing that he had done so.

"You have moved the flame from your mind onto your hand. You do the same now to make it follow your hand. It is the same, just concentrate, you want the flame to follow your hand and it will do so."

Harry moved his hand to the right, slowly, concentrating onto the flame, wanting it to follow his hand, but – well, it didn't, and questioningly he looked up at Professor Snape.

"It is not enough for you to just want the flame following your hand." Severus tried to encourage. "You actually have to battle for it to obey your will. It is not easy, and there is no problem if you won't perform it today. You have already crossed every line I thought possible in the first place. I did not think you would be able to intentionally conjure the flame in the first place. You either will manage it, or you will not."

Well, the boy tried, moved his hand to his left, moved it forwards, but nothing happened and Severus could feel Harry getting frustrated with himself. He reached out and placed a hand on Harry's arm, trying to get his attention. The past two minutes or so Harry had gone pale, paler than he was comfortable with and a small film of perspiration covered the boy's forehead.

"Stop getting frustrated with yourself." He said. "You have achieved much more than I imagined possible. Now, just close your hand and will the flame to vanish. Imagine by closing your hand you would hide the flame in your fist."

Harry looked up at him yet again, and a nearly sad expression crossed a small tired face, he clearly didn't want the flame to vanish.

"We can repeat this tomorrow, if you wish to, but right now you have to vanish the flame. Do it, now!"

Remembering that he had to obey the Professor, that it was important, he concentrated back at his hand, and suddenly he knew why Professor Snape had given the last sentence as a sharp command and the next moment he felt his panic raising. What if he couldn't vanish the flame? The Professor had said it was dangerous. What if he burnt something with the flame? What if he hurt someone with the flame? What if he …

"Hush, child." He heard the man's calm voice near his ear and the Professor's hands resting on his shoulders. "Hush. Calm down, Harry. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Nothing will happen if you can't vanish the flame. Professor McGonagall and I can do it for you. Just try it. Close your eyes now."

Severus knelt behind Harry, his hands on the boy's shoulders, trying to calm the eleven year old that still held the flame hovering over his hand. But his hand trembled as did the flame, and he tried to project something of his calmness towards the child, leaning closer.

"Now take a deep breath, Harry." He whispered into the boy's ear. "That's it, child … now close your hand into a fist and imagine that you grasp the flame, that you hide the flame in your fist … and now release your breath … that's fine. Keep your hand closed for a moment longer … now open your eyes and concentrate onto your closed fist … yes, just like that … and now open your fist with the knowledge that the flame is gone until you conjure it again tomorrow."

Severus still was sitting on the floor behind Harry, his fingers gently kneading the boy's shoulders, but he could feel the boy opening his eyes, locking at his closed hand and then Harry opened his fist, the flame gone. And now he clearly could feel the boy's relieve, relieve at having the flame vanished without anything happening, without burning the room or hurting the Professors, mixed with disappointment of the flame being gone.

The boy leaned backwards a bit, maybe not even really recognizing his actions or he wouldn't have done so, not in front of Minerva. The boy was tired and exhausted and he simply pulled the small body closer until Harry's back rested against his chest and the boy's head against his shoulder. He looked down to see that the child had his eyes closed.

"Wake up, Harry." He said, gently shaking the boy's shoulder. "Just for a moment, child. I need you to drink something."

He felt the boy shaking his head against his shoulder and he pushed the boy up a bit so he sat upright.

"If you use a wand and an incantation, then you channel your magic through the wand and your voice." The Potions Master said, running his thumb over the clammy forehead. "If you use elementary magic, mind magic, wandless magic, then you channel the magic through your body. It leaves you tired and exhausted until you have found your own way to get used to this kind of magic. You need to allow your body to compensate what it has lost, energy. I want you to drink this."

The boy took the glass of the water mixed with an energy potion with still trembling hands and despite the fact that he had not wanted to drink it at first he downed the clear liquid in nearly one go.

"That's it, child." Severus whispered when Harry leaned back against his chest once more, running his hand through the damp hair. "And there will be no practicing without me being present, not like the last time with the fir needle, do you understand? We have to be careful and you do not have to worry about not being able to learn it like the last time. Alright?"

He didn't get an answer to that besides of a small nod and a moment later the boy's breathing evened out, indicating that Harry was sleeping, once again in his arms and he wondered why the boy was able to sleep peacefully in his arms when he took hours of falling asleep and staying asleep in his own bed.

"That was amazing, Severus." Minerva whispered.

"I know." Severus silently answered, his voice too barely more than a whisper, summoning one of the armchairs so he could lean back with the boy in his arms more comfortable. "Harry really spoke."

"I wonder what that boy would be able to achieve with a bit more training." Minerva sighed heavily, getting off the floor and sitting into the remaining armchair. "I really am going too old for sitting on the floor."

"I wonder if I could work with Harry this way, if he speaks unintentionally while residing in his own mind …"

"Yes, I have to agree. He already transfigured a book into a fir needle unintentionally and now he conjured a flame …"

Severus blinked at the deputy headmistress for a few moments.

"Minerva!" He finally growled. "I do not care if he had been able to do this. Well, yes, I have to admit, it was remarkable. But honestly. Do you even … Minerva, Harry talked. And he said clear sentences. Do you know what that means to me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Severus." Minerva reached over to touch the Potions Master's arm. "I really am. I know what this surely has to mean to you. I'm sorry I just saw Mr. Potter's magical abilities."  
Severus sighed again. "You have my apology, Minerva." He finally said. "I know that you have to have Harry's future education in the forefront of your mind. I just have to admit, I am a bit excited. That is all."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"How about we get you into bed, child?" Severus asked, his voice still not its usual self, still filled with emotions that were foreign to him somehow.

He had shaken the boy awake after Minerva had left, softly told him that it was time for dinner and Harry just reluctantly had obeyed, clearly not wanting to leave the place in his arms. But it was important for the boy to eat. Even if he would have gained enough weight now it would have been important. But he had not, the boy still was underweight and he needed each meal, especially after such a display of magic he'd had performed earlier.

And the fact that Harry willingly nodded at his suggestion now showed him enough of how tired the boy was. Not that he ever complained when he sent him to bed. The child rarely complained at all. But normally he just did as he was told. Not so this time. This time he nodded gladly, as if he had just waited for being told to go to bed.

Slowly and clearly tiredly the boy got up from the table and went over to the bathroom to get ready for bed and Severus smiled tiredly. It wasn't that he was bodily tired. No.

But he was emotionally tired. So much had happened today.

The boy had shown concern about him and thus unintentionally used elementary magic. Then he had used the same magic intentionally and with success at his first try. But what was the most important thing was – the boy had spoken. Unintentionally, but he had spoken, freely, entire sentences, while being at peace. He had heard the boy's voice and he decided that it was one of the most welcoming sounds he ever had heard, even if this voice had been rough from lack of use for only Merlin knew how many years exactly. Not to mention the fact that the boy had called him dad. The boy had called him, cold and dark and snarky Potions Master dad. But most importantly, yes – he had spoken in the first place.

He still wasn't able to describe what he had felt back then. He wasn't even able to describe a quarter of what he had been feeling, of what he still felt. It had been one of the best days in his life and he wondered why he never had missed such days in the past, how he had become a person who never allowed himself to feel.

He felt a tug on his arm and looked at Harry. The wizarding child was looking at him curiously and again Severus almost lost control of his own emotions, wondering how he had been able to hate this child just a few weeks ago and he simply scooped the boy up in his arms. Never mind the fact that the boy was eleven. He was still small enough so that he fit perfectly in his arms while he carried him into his room and to bed, and surely the boy never had had such before and his need to catch up that what had been denied of the child, well – the way the boy leaned his head on his shoulder made clear that he too relished in the moment.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry could feel that something was strange today. He didn't know what it was, but something definitely was strange.

Maybe it had to do with the flame he had been managing to create earlier. Maybe it was because he had obeyed.

But then – that never had hindered the Dursleys to punish him, never mind if he obeyed or not. And doing something well too had never caused them to acknowledge it either.

But he wasn't at the Dursleys anymore. He was at Hogwarts, and he was with the Professor. And the Professor cared for him. The Professor didn't hate him and even was about to become his father. And the Professor always made his pain or his fears go away. He didn't even fear him anymore when he touched him.

He knew that for other children a parent's touch was a normal thing, nothing to feel blissful about, he had seen other children taking their parents holding them for normal, but he always would feel like being in heaven. Every time the Professor had ever placed a hand on his shoulder, pushed his hair back, or took his hand had become a memory that Harry replayed in his mind whenever he began to think of the abuse he had been through with his relatives.

But that was not all of it. Sometimes the Professor took him into his arms and held him tightly and he felt safe then, knowing that nothing and no one could harm him as long as he was in those arms. And sometimes he stayed with him when he went to bed, sitting onto the mattress when Harry lay down, and his hands were gently whenever they rubbed circles on his back to get him to sleep or to calm him. And honestly, he rarely flinched anymore when he did that.

It was just that, blissful. And right now he felt in heaven while the Professor carried him to bed.

Of course some part of him wanted to protest, wanted to say 'hey, I'm not a baby' – but honestly, this part was so, so small at the moment he easily ignored it and just bathed in the feeling of warmth and being cared for.

If just everything would go well tomorrow too.

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Severus put Harry down onto the mattress and covered the small form with the blankets when the boy snuggled into the pillow, looking up at him with a strange expression in his tired eyes. For a moment the Potions Master wondered what it was, but then he nodded his head and sat onto the edge of the bed when he recognized the same fear he himself felt. He had told the boy earlier, during dinner, that tomorrow would come a woman from child welfare and he knew how nervous the boy was about that.

"You fear something could go wrong tomorrow?" He simply asked and the boy nodded.

"There will go nothing wrong." He tried to reassure Harry. "I do know Miss Harvest from earlier encounters with my Slytherins. She is an older but really pleasant woman with human sense. There will go nothing wrong."

"Then why are you nervous?" Harry asked, his hands moving unsurely and Severus couldn't help smiling. Did this child know him so well meanwhile that he could tell when he was nervous? When he was afraid of something? Even if he had kept his nervousness and his fears out of his face and his features?

It seemed so.

"Because I do not want to lose you, child. Because I love you." He said, settling for sharing his feelings for once even if that wasn't what he really was used to or good at. But honestly, who would help the boy if he wasn't allowed to? Who would hold him? And who would love him? Who would care for him?

And for some reason the Potions Master did not want to sleep alone in his own bed tonight, knowing that no one could take their love away and knowing that no one could keep the child from coming to this room to sleep here whenever he wanted. But nevertheless fearing that it might be the last night.

And Severus knew it would not do any good if Harry woke up alone either. The child was dealing with serious abandonment issues amongst other things and the child just needed that stability and love as a constant in his life.

So he just remained where he was, in Harry's bed, one foot dangling over the edge while he leaned against the head board, knowing he would not be able to sleep tonight, knowing that he most likely would savor each minute during the night as if it was his last one, and hoping against all odds that all would go well tomorrow morning at ten. He just held the boy in his arms, the child's head laying on his stomach while his breathing slowly evened out and he knew the child had fallen asleep.

"Good night, my little serpent." He whispered, ensuring that the child was covered with the blankets.

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**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_The visit from child welfare_

_Will Severus be able to adopt Harry?_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you


	32. Elsa Harvest

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_He just held the boy in his arms, the child's head laying on his stomach while his breathing slowly evened out and he knew the child had fallen asleep._

_"Good night, my little serpent." He whispered, ensuring that the child was covered with the blanket._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter thirty-two**

**Elsa Harvest**

It was half past nine. Half past nine and in half an hour Elsa Harvest would be here.

He knew that the woman would not be late. She never was. He had dealt with her since years now, since the first time that he had noticed the signs of abuse in one of his Slytherins, so many years ago when he had taken over his post as Head of Slytherin house. He immediately had contacted her and as it had been a muggle born child it had been easy to get the boy adopted into a wizarding family. He had not had such a luck with every one of his mistreated students.

Most of them were either born to simply wizards, a rare occasion as wizards in general did not mistreat their children, they were rare and thus special – or to Death Eaters, the more common situation they found, as the Death Eaters had their own ways of thinking and raising a child. They went after the old style and pure bloods methods where beating a child had not been a crime, where children got married with eleven and only out of politics.

It wasn't a bad thing, some of those old and pure blood standards and handling. Not in general at least. The pure bloods were still high court and well seen after all.

There had been long times when witches and wizards had been hunted down by the muggles, when they had been burned and killed and when they had been living in fear and in hiding, always afraid they would been found out. And of course the wizarding community had begun to become selfish, to want more than such a life, a life in which they had to fear for their own lives and for the lives of their families. They wanted nothing else than to live in peace and without fear.

So they had begun to hide their houses from the muggles, even entire streets, districts and finally entire villages they had hidden under the fidelius and they had set their own standards. Manners had been important, behaviour, language, knowledge and power. All those things that would ensure the survival of the wizarding world. And back then very few witches or wizards had married muggles. And if, then they had left the wizarding community. Never in the old ages had a muggle lived in a wizarding community.

But then that had changed. More and more muggles had been integrated into the wizarding communities, slowly but surely over the centuries pure bloods had married muggles and now there were few real pure bloods left.

Another of the reasons why the wizarding world was dying was that wizarding families mostly had one child only, sometimes two, and three at the most. Families with more than two children or even more than three like the Weasleys who had seven were really rare.

And so, with the time, the wizarding standard had changed. Children had become more important, had become the centre of the families and they were well looked after and well protected, even from their own parents. The ministry for magic had invented laws for children rights, such as the muggles had and a department for child service had been integrated into the ministry.

But the followers of the Dark Lord – well, they still held onto the old pure blood ways and not only in their madness concerning the pureness of blood itself and the idiotic opinion that wizards were above muggles, not only in the opinion that the use of each kind of magic was their right, but in the old ways of raising a child too.

Within the Death Eaters still children got engaged upon the birth out of the family name and politics. And to ensure the well behaved mannerism, language, knowledge and power, strength, all those things that were so important, they did not shy away from violence when it came to raising their children.

The use of magic itself – well, back in the old days there had not been 'dark magic' or 'light magic'. Dark magic or light magic in itself did not exist. It was the witches and wizards who made the magic dark or light, concerning the purpose for what the magic was used. But now, now in these days the ministry had _had _to declare some branches as 'dark magic' in order to keep those spells and potions forbidden and thus the wizarding world from mistreating their magical powers, from harming innocent.

And a lot of the old pure blood families especially the Death Eaters did not like this. In their opinion they still had the right to use those branches of magic.

And even Severus himself, he had to admit, did have a hang on the dark arts of magic. Not to do harm, that never had been his intention, but to achieve his goal, to keep himself and others safe and to – simply learn and to progress. What simply had been one of the reasons as to why he had followed the Dark Lord once when he had been young. A mistake he regretted deeply as he had not seen the madness of the man back then. Back then he only had seen that there had been a wizard who had stood up to their rights. Back then he had wanted nothing else than to be part of this rebellion and to fight for their rights. And back then – well, back then he'd had nothing else. But now, years later, now he knew better and now he deeply regretted his decision he had made in his youth.

However, to help those children who simply had been born to wizards, they had misplaced them in other families too, it had been possible, even if it had been a bit more difficult than this first time with the muggle born child. To displace half blood children were as easy, mostly not even necessary as the witch – or wizard – easily could divorce with their help and thus keep their children safe from the violent muggle part. What always had been a problem – that were the Death Eater children. The Death Eaters, they had wide reaching connections that protected them and their families.

But he always had been able to count on the help of Elsa Harvest who had covered his back when he had placed those children in study groups during the summer to prevent them from going home. And he on the other hand had covered Elsa Harvest's back when she had filed out the papers that kept the children in 'detention over the holidays' in a camp she had invented for just those students.

There they could have a summer without the fear of being beaten. They could do their homework, go for a swim, walk around the gardens and even play Quidditch as long as they stayed within the properties' boundaries.

But this time? This time was different. This time it was _him _who wanted to adopt a child. And this time – well, he was a Death Eater, or had been one at least. In other words, exactly that what Elsa Harvest and he had been trying to avoid all those years. A child staying with its Death Eater parents when there was harm done to said child. Of course he would not harm Harry. And surely Elsa Harvest knew that. But on the other hand, he _had been_ a Death Eater once …

He breathed deeply and released his breath while he leaned his shoulder against the doorframe to Harry's room and crossed his arms over his chest. He would face it with as much dignity as possible. Without showing his fears. He had faced worse.

But then – that worse never had threatened his heart.

He watched Harry sitting on his bed, his shoulders bend and his head hanging low, and he immediately knew that the boy felt the same fears as did he. Alone the sad look the boy threw through the room every now and then, as if trying to memorize it as good as possible was enough for him to know. Slowly he entered the room and seated himself beside the boy onto the edge of the bed. Not too close to frighten him, but close enough so the boy easily could seek comfort if he so wished.

"Are you alright, Harry?" He asked, his voice filled with concern. "I can practically _hear_ your heart beating – in the living room."

Harry lifted his head and cast a miserable look at him, but he nodded before he lowered his head again.

"Are you certain?" The older wizard asked and again the boy nodded. Yet, Severus wasn't really relieved, knew that the boy simply was too good in hiding his true feelings.

Shaking his head he turned towards the boy and took one of the small hands into his own. Damn his dignity, damn his reputation and damn the fact that he wasn't good at giving comfort to a miserable child. He never had had someone who actually comforted him, not in his childhood and not when he had been a teenager. And surely not since he had been an adult. Not that he would have allowed anyone to comfort him anyway after he had lost Lily.

And nevertheless – he had wished … back then … as a child. He had wished.

And now, years later, he now had the opportunity to do what he once had wished that would have been done for him. Now he had the chance to become someone different than all the adults in his own life had been. Now he had the chance to become a father who actually cared and who actually tried to make things better.

"Listen, child." He slowly began and his voice was low and calm. "I never really knew what true happiness was before you came into my life, Harry. Your mother had made me happy of course, but that was another kind of happiness. And you too made me happy of course, but I never had you around me for twenty-four hours a day. But now I do, child."

He could see the boy's face go from miserable to curious to happy and then to sad and he shook his head. Again he had said something wrong and the boy had misunderstood him.

"Do not heed for conclusions before I am finished, child, for I am quite glad that I _do_ have you around here for twenty-four hours a day and I would not want it any other way. I never knew what it was like to care and worry so much for someone that I could feel his happiness or pain more clearly than my own. Again – yes, I of course did care for you and your mother back then, but again – that had been different than it is now. Do you understand what I want to say, child?"

The boy slowly nodded and Severus continued. "In other words, never mind what will be the outcome today, this room is yours and you may come down here whenever you wish to. Never mind what will happen today, I still will love you as I do now and you are welcomed to keep me company whenever you want. I never have looked forward to a new day beginning, but now I do. And I do because of you, child. And no one can take this away from us, do you understand?"

Harry studied the Professor's face with wary green eyes, but for once the man didn't seem guarded and difficult to read. His pale and stern face was concerned and his dark eyes were warm and filled with emotions like rarely before. Slowly he nodded and for once during this morning since he was awake he smiled a small smile for a few seconds, knowing that he would not loose his professor. And not only because he was his head of house but because the Professor still wanted his company, still cared about him.

The fire in the main area of Severus' quarters flared and the older wizard knew it was time, Elsa Harvest had arrived. Sighing he got up and took another look at the boy.

"Come, child. It is time." He said and walked towards the door to greet Miss Harvest, mentioning the boy to follow him.

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Elsa Harvest stood in the main area of Professor Snape's private quarters and with a quick look he took in her surroundings. It wasn't the first time that she was here. They mostly discussed the children in need here in front of the fire where it simply was more comfortable than in the Potions Master's office that was lined with glasses, vials and jars full of ugly stuff the man had collected over the years as a Potions Master.

It was rather out of habit that she viewed her surroundings so close after her arrival.

"Miss Harvest." She heard Professor Snape's greeting and she turned to the man with a slight smile on her lips. She liked him, and not only because he was a good looking and intelligent man who was not as childish as a lot of other wizards but stern and severe, but mainly because he was a man who actually cared about the children. Sometimes she really thought he would do well in her department. But she knew that he never would work for the ministry. And sometimes she thought she maybe could try to become closer to the man. But again she knew that too never would happen. This man never would allow it. He was an old bachelor, not ready to give his heart away. Even as it seemed he now had. But not to a woman but to a small child that needed a father.

"Professor Snape." She greeted back, extending her hand towards the wizard in front of her before her gaze went towards the door behind him where a small boy emerged from the Potions Master's guest chamber. "And that must be Mr. Potter, I guess?"

Harry bit his lip, then bit his lip for a moment longer before he finally nodded and moved closer to him and Severus simply placed his hand on the boy's right shoulder and shoved him in front of him. Still the boy stayed close enough for him to feel Harry's body tremble against his own body even through his own robes and the boy nearly leaned against his legs.

Cautiously he placed his other hand on Harry's left shoulder and he was surprised when the boy slightly straightened under his touch and even his trembling eased a bit. He looked down at him in time to see the boy looking up at him with unsure eyes, asking for assurance and for comfort and Severus simply squeezed his shoulders gently.

"Yes, that is Harry, Miss Harvest." He said, inclining his head towards the social worker.

Elsa Harvest watched the boy in front of her for a moment, quickly took in the frightened look the boy gave her before he searched for comfort from the Potions Master and she noticed the gentle squeeze the man gave the boy's shoulders.

She didn't like this look from the child. It was a look of one who had known too much of pain and not enough love and she immediately knew that this child would have a hard life in any family she would place him. There simply was too much pain and fear to overcome and too much memories and flashbacks to deal with. Too much for one small set of shoulders to bear and too much for a normal family to handle. It would have to take someone who understood that pain to take care of this child, someone who understood what it meant to be damaged, different and outcast.

She didn't know the reason as to why Professor Snape understood such, knew such, but she knew that he did. And the man was willing to take the boy and care for him and he seemed to feel affection for the child.

"Well, shall we begin, Professor?" She asked and the Potions Master gave her one of his stiff nods, the one that often made her smile at him. He seemed so old and reserved, not like the thirty-one year old young man he actually was – yet, that exactly it was that somehow made him so … different from other men she knew.

Severus led the boy towards the sofa where he normally sat and gestured with his hand towards one of the armchairs, inviting her to take a seat.

"Tea?" He asked and after the nod from the woman he summoned a tray with a tea set from the kitchen that flooded over to them and softly placed itself onto the table between the witch, wizard and wizarding child.

"I heard that you have been very ill, Mr. Potter, and that you are still not well." Elsa Harvest finally addressed the boy while she took the tea cup from the Potions Master's hand. "How do you feel in general now?"

Harry looked up at her when the woman addressed him but then he looked over to the Professor, unsure, nearly crying, not knowing what to do and how to react. How was he supposed to answer her question? How was he supposed to … what could he do to … what should he do when … how …

Easily sensing the oncoming panic attack Severus reached over towards the boy and simply placed his hand on top of the boy's thigh, knowing that his simple touch would be enough to keep him calm for now.

"Hush, child." He softly said, giving the boy a warm but stern gaze. "There is no need to get into a panic. You either can simply sign your answer and I will 'translate' your words to Miss Harvest, or I will summon your notebook so you can write your answers down. You will be perfectly fine as will be Miss Harvest and I myself."

The boy nodded and Severus inclined his head towards the boy, waiting for his answer and glad that they had prevented the first panic attack. He only hoped that they would get this visit over with, without a real one.

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment Harry turned towards Elsa Harvest and began to answer her question with trembling fingers. Severus knew exactly how much it took for the boy to do this, to simply move his hands in front of the woman he didn't know and he couldn't help but feel warmth spreading over him, knowing that the boy forced himself to overcome his fear in order to simply do his best to stay here with him.

"I … mostly ok … ma'am." Severus voiced the words Harry signed, not looking at the woman from the ministry but keeping his eyes on the boy. "Some days are easier than others … and some days I just can't …" He lifted his eyebrow at the boy. "Can't what, Harry?" He then asked, but he only got a shaking of his head and the boy looked away, averted his eyes.

"It is ok, Mr. Potter." Elsa Harvest said. "You do not have to answer a question that simply is too much for you to handle right now." She smiled at the boy. "I heard you have been introduced to the wizarding world only recently?"

Harry nodded, lifting his gaze at her a bit.

"And how do you find it?" She wanted to know.

Harry looked up at Severus, curiously. "Find it, sir?" He asked. "But it is here. I do not have to search it. How …" He broke off, unsurely and this time Severus couldn't help but smile.

"Miss Harvest simply wants to know your opinion, Harry." He softly said and the boy nodded at him before he looked back at the woman from child service and began to sign his answer with small and unsure movements.

"It is … strange." Severus again 'translated' his words, his eyes again on the boy. "But it is great … I … here I can … here I am not … I mean …" He placed his hand over the boy's hands to stop their movements that became frantic, knowing what exactly the boy meant but knowing Harry wasn't able to actually name those words.

"You do not have to force an answer you do not know how to explain, child." He simply said. "You can take your time and I am sure Miss Harvest will understand."

"That is correct, Mr. Potter." Elsa Harvest said.

She had seen the small smile that had tucked at the Potions Master's lips earlier and she would have been startled if she had not known the man so well. And now she sensed that the Professor knew the boy well, that he understood and that he was ready to be patient with him, that he knew what to do in order to give him some reassurance and comfort.

And that was enough for her. She knew that that boy would be happy with the man. If only Cornelius would have more brain in his head and if only he would not be as blinded by his pure hate for the Death Eaters. Then he would see that Severus Snape was a man that might have made a mistake in his youth but had long paid for this mistake.

"Maybe you can tell me what you have learned since you are here, Mr. Potter?" She asked, simply to get the boy away from answering a question that he didn't know how to answer. She had read the report the Potions Master had sent with his request of adoption and she knew that the boy had been called 'freak' by his relatives because of his magical heritage, that he had been beaten for his accidental magic. And as she knew Severus Snape, the man had tried to teach him that he wasn't a freak, that he was as normal as every other wizarding child and that he was allowed to use his magic.

This time the child smiled and she could see a bit of happiness in the small and drawn face.

"I have learned to brew potions." Severus explained the small movements the boy's hands made. "And how to write … and how to sign … the Professor showed it to me … and I am learning speechless magic … and how to do math too … and I learned to conjure a flame …"

"You mean elementary magic, Mr. Potter?" Elsa Harvest asked, casting a curious glance at the Potions Master who smirked at her.

"Yes, ma'am." Came the boy's answer.

"And you managed to conjure a flame?"

"Yes, ma'am … it danced above my hand … and it was great … the Professor and … the Transfiguration Teacher were there too …" Harry stopped and Severus went towards the woman.

"Professor McGonagall." He explained. "As Harry in unable to speak the incantations needed for doing magic, he has to learn speechless magic what is a rather difficult branch of magic considering that not even every adult wizard is able to use it. So I thought that elementary magic might be of help in order to learn speechless magic as I noticed that Harry has a rather strong magical mind and soul. And he succeeded within his first lesson that had been supervised by Minerva and me yesterday."

"That is remarkable." Elsa Harvest gasped. "You just better do not tell this Cornelius."

"I do know when to keep my mouth shut, Madam." Severus nodded, his smile gone. "But honestly, I had the permission and the assistance from the deputy headmistress. Fudge cannot blame me teaching Harry dark magic in this case."

"I do know this, Professor." Elsa Harvest said, smiling at the formal 'madam' the teacher addressed her with as always. "But you know our minister. Sometimes I really wonder where he had lost his common sense."

"Did he ever have one?" Severus snorted, causing Elsa Harvest to laugh softly.

"Did I say something wrong, sir?" Harry asked him and Severus immediately shook his head.

"No, Harry." He answered. "You have said nothing wrong. I will explain the dangers of dark magic at another time to you when we have time to do so. Right now I think we have other topics than the different arts of magic."

"Yes, sir." The boy answered and Elsa Harvest smiled.

"I noticed that Professor Snape has given his guest chamber to you." She said. "Do you like your room?"

"Yes … I do …" Again Severus 'translated' the boy's signs. "I am just not sure … sometimes it is a bit big … but the Professor laid a mattress under my bed … and a pillow and a blanket … so I can hide when I feel lost in there …"

Elsa Harvest nodded with a sad expression on her face. The boy had lived in a small cupboard throughout the years and of course he felt this room too big sometimes, feared he might get lost in the much too large space to him. And honestly – placing a mattress and a pillow underneath the boy's bed, creating a nest down there for him – well, that was something that was like Severus Snape to do. The man was not for nothing the head of a house full of mistreated children.

"And I can keep my door open at all times." The boy continued. "And that is important."

"Why would that be important, Mr. Potter?" Elsa Harvest asked, knowing the answer but she wanted to hear it from the boy. Or rather from the Professor's voice as the boy had none. A strange way of communication, she thought, but it worked and nothing else mattered.

"You cannot lock an open door." The boy signed and then looked down and the Professor's voice was strangely chocked, she noticed. "Only closed doors can be locked."

"That is right, dear." She answered, noticing the Potions Master's fingers that brushed over the child's forehead, brushed strands of black hair out of the pale face. "May I see your room, Mr. Potter?" She asked.

Of course she had seen the teacher's guest chamber before. In fact she had seen this room whenever the man had had one of his abused students down here to patch the children up, whenever she had been here to talk to those children then. But she wanted Harry to show her his room nevertheless, as she always did. She wanted to see him moving around here, wanted to see how comfortable the boy was here.

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She had seen the boy's room and she had been pleased. It had been tidy and it had been comfortable.

Not so the boy. She didn't doubt that Harry was comfortable down here in the dungeons in general, but he was uncomfortable around _her_. He didn't know her. And – well, it had taken the Professor a bit of coaxing until the child had been ready to really get up from the sofa and move towards his room in front of her where he stayed near the doorway, ready to bolt from the room if he felt the need to.

The boy would have hidden himself away if he had been allowed to, she thought.

"Well, Professor." She said. "I would like to have a word with Mr. Potter alone, if that is possible."

Professor Snape nodded at her, while at the same time Harry's face got a pale mask of horror.

"Easy, child." The man explained while leaning over to the boy. "You will be …"

The boy signed something, close to tears now and the Potions Master sighed. And then the man actually got up and knelt in front of the boy, taking this pale face into his hands.

"Hush, child. Listen to me. You will be perfectly safe with Miss Harvest, Harry. I will be next door in the kitchen. I won't leave completely. I will prepare some biscuits and as soon as Miss Harvest and you are finished, we will have them with our tea, ok?"

Again the boy signed something and Elsa Harvest couldn't help sighing when she noticed that the boy was close to falling apart. She had known that the boy would be afraid of strangers, but thus afraid? Well – she had seen Pomfrey's report. She should have known.

"Yes, Harry, this has to be." Came the Potions Master's stern voice. "It simply is important that Miss Harvest can talk to you alone, without my presence … no, but because maybe there might be something that you would not want to say in front of me … no, Harry, I do know this, but it simply is not possible … Harry, I am sure you _do_ understand. You just do not wish to because you do not wish me to leave … yes, I do know this, child, but Miss Harvest does not know this … no, it is not possible … child, you simply can write your answers down and … I am sure you can do this … yes, I could, but I will not do so … stop!"

Elsa Harvest had been watching the exchange of words between the boy and the teacher with interest and nearly a smile on her lips. The both of them communicated as easily as if they never had done something else. Well, of course she had seen other mute people who used sign language faster then the boy did, but honestly, this boy had just learned to use sign language a few weeks ago.

Well, as it seemed the Potions Master finally got impatient with the boy's thick headedness.

"Now you listen to me, child." The man's voice was stern now and he summoned a notebook and a pencil from the boy's room. "There is no way around this, Mr. Potter. Miss Harvest _does_ wish to speak to you in privacy and I will be next door in the kitchen. You will be perfectly safe with her … no, you are not in trouble, child … it will be a few minutes and then I will be back … yes, I promise."

The Potions Master got up when Harry nodded and he inclined his head towards her before he left the room. Yet – she could see how stiff and nearly reluctant the man walked away, knowing that he left a nearly crying boy sitting on the sofa and she herself would have liked to somehow comfort the child had she not known that she only would frighten him out of his wits.

"Well, Mr. Potter." She began, trying to gather her professionalism. "You do know that Professor Snape wants to adopt you, don't you?"

A hesitant nod from the boy followed her question after a few seconds of nothing.

"I take it, that you do want to stay here with Professor Snape also? That you wish him to adopt you?"

There were a few seconds without any reaction and she knew that the boy had to collect himself, so she waited. But then the boy nodded again.

"Can you tell me why?" She asked.

Again there were a few seconds before the boy finally took the notebook and then slowly began to write, casting an unsure glance towards her every now and then before he slowly and with trembling hands reached the notebook at her.

'Because I trust him and I know he never will hurt me.' She read.

"How do you know this?" She asked. Of course she knew that the Professor never would, but again she wanted the answer from the child and she reached the notebook back so he could give his answer. This time the boy wrote for a while before he slowly extended his hand with the notebook.

'Because he promisd. And he never lied to me. And he helped me to get beter. Uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia never made me beter, but the Professor does. And he isn't mad at me when I have a nigtmare. I can feel him, inside some how. In my chest. And I can hear his voice and see him, and there is this strange thing as if he is creating some thing around me that fels warm. Just like a planket. And even if I don't see him then I know when he's here. I don't know how to ecsplain, but it is as if I can feel his magic. I don't know if one can feel other peopls magic, but I can some how. Almost as if it is toutching me. And even if there were a milion people I would know it's him.'

She had to smile at the few spelling mistakes and remembered that the boy had not been able to write a few weeks ago, according to Professor Snape. Well, his writing was nearly perfect if you considered this little fact. And his explanation was far from what she would have expected from an eleven year old.

"It is indeed possible to feel other people's magical signature, but you have to be very close to this person." She answered and gave the notebook back.

'But I can feel him now too.' She read the boy's answer and she smiled.

"I did not mean close in distance." She answered. "But close in feeling. You really do like Professor Snape, don't you?"

'Some times when I fall asleep here on the sofa and then wake up, then I have a planket that had not been there when I fell aslep. And the fire is still burning so that I'm warm. But I'm not only warm because of the planket and the fire, but inside me too some how, because he's here and because I know that he cares. Enough to tuck me in. Aunt Petunia always had tucked Dudley in, but no one tucked me in until I came to Professor Snape.'

"I see." Elsa Harvest sighed and gave the notebook back. "So Professor Snape is complete different from what your relatives had been."

The boy only nodded.

"But you still fear him, am I right?"

'Some times. I don't want to. And I know that I don't have to. But I can't help it. Some times I just do. But mostly I don't. Mostly I trust him. It is like the planket and the warmth and that he cares. I learned from him what trusting felt like and I like it.'

"You realize that Severus Snape will be your father, once the adoption papers are signed? That you will be his heir, and that he will have right of guardianship over you until you come of age."

Again the boy nodded, this time with a smile on his otherwise so frightened face.

"And you do notice that you will have to obey him, that he always will have the last word concerning you?"

'Yes I do. But that is easy. It is not like it was with aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon. He never asked things that are imposibl. I won't have problems to obey him.'

"Very well, Mr. Potter." She finally said, noticing the boy looked tired and exhausted, knowing it was not only a bodily tiredness but the strain from dealing with memories and his fear as well. "I will have a few words with Professor Snape. Is it alright if I leave you here alone for a moment?"

She would have laughed at the relieved look that crossed the boy's face, would the situation not have been so serious. So she simply nodded at him and then left the living area and went towards the small kitchen into which the man had retreated earlier. Softly she knocked at the doorframe.

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"May I have a word with you, Professor?" Elsa Harvest asked as the man turned towards her and leaned against the counter.

"Of course, madam." He answered. He had heard what she had asked Harry and he had heard what she had answered him. But without the boy's words he couldn't know the entire conversation of course. Not that it had been for his ears anyway, but he had a very fine hearing. And he was curious.

"I'm finished with Mr. Potter, Professor." The woman said. "And my opinion is made up."

Severus stiffened at her words. They sounded as if …

"I have one last question to you however."

"Yes?" Severus asked, not able to say more, not able to keep up his normal way of speaking, his sarcasm. He was glad that he had been able to get this small word out and for a moment he wondered if that was how Harry felt, unable to voice all that was stumbling through his mind.

"The boy is in your care since September the first now and you know him well meanwhile I take it. He still is so fragile and pale, so afraid of everything. Will he truly recover one day?"

"You want my professional opinion, madam?"

"Yes, I would appreciate that."

"Then notice that I still wonder how in Merlin's name the boy is able to walk, to sit upright and to function at all." Severus answered, running his hand over his face. "Not to mention how he has survived in the first place. So, I don't know. I cannot answer you this question."

"Professor Dumbledore sounded really positive about that."

"Professor Dumbledore tends to overlook child abuse as something harmless." Severus huffed, remembering their weekly meetings with the headmaster. "He has yet to visit and have a personal look at the boy."

"You want to tell me, that the headmaster never has visited Mr. Potter while he had been in the hospital wing?"

"Correct."

Elsa Harvest gave a sigh but then she dropped the subject and nodded.

"I have, of course, read about Professor Dumbledore's opinion concerning the blood wards." She finally said. "But the child needs more than a safe place to live. He needs to have a responsible adult taking care of him and allowing him to be the child he is."

"And you think he could not find this here?" The Potions Master asked, his voice bitter. He should have known. "Harry needs to be a child, yes, and he needs to feel loved. But he also needs to be allowed to make mistakes and to learn without fear. And that he can only achieve when he has an adult who understands his fears and his reactions, an adult who actually cares. He has been thrown into our world alone and without someone who cares …"

"I never said otherwise, Professor." Elsa Harvest smiled and for a moment she wondered who was more nervous and afraid of a possible loss. The Professor or the child. "And if you would have let me explain, then you would know by now that I have no intention of separating the child from you. In the contrary. I personally think that you would be the perfect father figure for Mr. Potter and I will mention that in my report."

Again she smiled at the Professor who exhaled with relieve.

"You know however that the minister has set a hearing for you in the ministry. Don't worry, Professor." She added when she noticed the worry that crossed his face. "I have managed to set the hearing as soon as possible in both of your interests, Mr. Potter's and yours. I think both of you have waited long enough. The hearing will take place tomorrow morning at eight in my office. Yet – one last thing. Be prepared, Cornelius wants Mr. Potter in curt for the Dursley's hearing in a week."

"That is _NOT_ going to happen." The Potions Master hissed silently. The last thing the boy needed was an official inquiry into his relatives' treatment of him, or to be forced into speaking openly of the abuse just now. "That would send him back for weeks."

"I do know, Professor, and I will do what I can to prevent it, but be prepared that it might not be enough. If Cornelius decides so, then you won't even be able to avoid it with your guardianship over the boy."

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"Mr. Potter. Professor Snape." Elsa Harvest said upon exiting the small kitchen and stepping back into the living area, addressing both wizards and the boy looked up at her with fearful and much too large green eyes.

"Well, I can tell you that this home visit went very well and both of you have my approval. I guess by tomorrow morning after the official hearing you both will be a family. I don't see any reason why you shouldn't."

Until the woman's words sank in Harry felt the familiar pain and fear threatening to overwhelm him for a moment, but then there was a light touch on his arm and he looked up to see the Professor studying him in concern.

"Are you all right?" Severus asked quietly, studying the boy with a serious and intense gaze. The boy looked ready to drop and fall apart, even if he nodded at him. "Truly?" He inquired upon the boy's nod and again he received a positive answer, even if Harry didn't look as if being alright. Well, perhaps a calming draught was in order.

He just wasn't sure if it would be better for him or better for the boy.

Right now the boy looked relieved and worried at the same time, happy and miserable and close to tears and the Potions Master guessed that Harry simply didn't know what exactly he had to feel right now.

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The day had gone by slowly and with an agonizing awareness of the situation.

Severus knew that everything now depended on the hearing tomorrow morning and he couldn't keep his nerves from nagging at him and making him a worried mess.

"It will be alright, Severus." Minerva said, trying to calm her colleague while watching at the sleeping child on the sofa. "I'm sure everything will work out quite well tomorrow, you'll see, Severus."  
"You don't know what that means for me, Minerva." The potions Master whispered as he brushed a few strands of hair from the boy's forehead. "I was prepared to hate that boy, just because he is the son of an old school nemesis who isn't even alive anymore. But I found I couldn't. And now – now this boy has become the only reason in my life. He has become the only one in my life who can make me truly happy. I cannot lose him, Minerva."

"And I'm sure you won't, Severus." She said. "You know Harvest and if she says you'll be a family by tomorrow after the hearing, then you'll be. She does know your past and she does know the reason for your hearing tomorrow. But she doesn't seem to be concerned about _that_. Otherwise she would not have told you that tomorrow morning you'd have the signed adoption papers."

"How can you be so sure, Minerva?" Severus asked in a whisper. "You know what I have done in my past."

"I do know, and you have paid deeply for your mistake."

"Killing people is not a simple _mistake_, Minerva." He growled darkly. "Neither is causing pain."

"You did what you had to do in order to survive a war in which you acted as a spy, Severus." The deputy headmistress shook her head angrily at the younger wizard. "And with your _killing _people, you merely saved them from a much more violent fate that would have ended in a painful death anyway. And even back then you have paid. Your heart is a good and strong one and that is what counts. And Harvest knows this. Do not let this idiot Fudge get to you and stop worrying."

"That is easier said than done, woman." The Slytherin growled at the Gryffindor who smiled at him knowingly.

"Don't worry." Minerva said. "I'll be here tomorrow morning while you …"

The fire flared, disrupting the deputy headmistress and Albus stepped out of the fireplace.

For a moment Severus had an angry reply on his tongue. He was a very private man and his quarters were warded against intruders, never mind who this intruder might be and never mind if it was the floo or the door. And the headmaster, as well as the medi-witch, were the only two persons who had a common password to enter each room and each quarters within the castle. But never, absolutely never before had the headmaster used this one to come for a visit and he was about to say so when he took a look at the older wizard's face.

The headmaster's face was pale, drawn and tired, his eyes without his usual happy twinkle and Severus immediately knew that something had happened, something bad.

"I'm sorry, Severus." The old wizard began and he really looked sorry. Sorry and concerned. "The ministry …"

But before he could continue to explain the fire flared again and a ministry official stepped out of the hearth, followed by a second ministry official and then by Kingsley Shacklebolt who shot him an apologetically and a warning gaze at the same time.

"Severus Snape, upon orders from the minister for magic Cornelius Fudge you are taken under arrest until your hearing tomorrow morning." One of the ministry officials said, stepping forwards, hesitantly and unsurely, not really knowing how to handle the situation while at the same time Albus stepped forwards too, towards the speaking auror.

"And still I say you make a mistake." The headmaster said. "This is not an official court hearing, it is only a hearing from child welfare concerning an adoption."

"That is unheard of." Minerva said and for a moment panic flashed through the Potions Master, but then he caught a movement out of the corner of his eyes and he turned to see Harry sitting up, woken from the sudden voices.

"You have to accompany us, Professor. Now." The other ministry official said, taking a step towards the Potions Master and as suddenly as the panic had threatened to overwhelm him as suddenly he had it back under control again. He had to be calm, at least for the moment. He would not make a scene in front of the boy that would startle and frighten the child only further. It wouldn't be the first time that he would spend a night in a ministry holding cell after all.

"In a moment, Savage." He growled darkly and turned towards Harry who still sat at the sofa, watching him and the scene with frightened wide eyes. He had to try and calm the child first, he had to try and assure him that all would be fine, even if he himself did not feel the same.

The auror he had addressed took a step towards him to grab at his arm but Shacklebolt was quicker and he reached out and placed his hand at Savage's chest to hinder the man.

"You will allow Professor Snape time to explain the situation to the child." He said in his low and deep voice and the other man retreated back towards the wall with a nervous gulp. All in all they seemed rather unorganized, hesitant and frightened for themselves and Severus had the impression that Fudge's order to arrest him had been a last minute order without explanation.

Gritting his teeth he sat onto the edge of the table, his back towards them, not allowing them to see his face he knew would be worried.

"I have to go for tonight, Harry." He said, trying to keep his voice as gentle and as calm as possible but his heart was beating violently against his chest and his fingers that reached out to brush over the boy's cheek trembled.

The boy didn't sign anything, too startled at the moment to react otherwise than breaking down in tears and he simply pulled the child into his arms and held him close.

"Everything is going to be fine." He whispered despite his own fears. This did not look good and he knew it. He cast a questioning gaze at Minerva and the deputy headmistress nodded, understanding his silent question.

"I will be here with him, Severus." She said before turning towards the ministry officials, sneering at them.

"Sir?" Harry finally signed with trembling hands, his green eyes large with fear and tears running down the pale face. "Please don't go. Don't leave me."

"I have to, Harry. But I promise you, I will be back tomorrow as soon as possible after the hearing." Severus whispered with a voice rough from emotions while he pulled the small body back into his arms. "I want you to be a good child. Go to bed and do as Professor McGonagall say. And before you can look twice I will be back. Will you do that for me? And listen to Professor McGonagall?"

He shoved the boy back on his shoulders a bit to look at him with a stern but reassuring gaze and brushed his fingertips softly over the boy's forehead.

"Yes, daddy." The far too small boy signed with trembling fingers, his breath hitching and he sobbed, sagging like dead back against him and burying his face in Severus' shoulder while small and thin arms sneaked around his neck. Alone the sign 'daddy' had shown him the distress the child was in.

"Good boy." Severus whispered. "Try to eat enough for dinner with Professor McGonagall. And don't forget, I will be back as soon as the hearing is over, my little serpent."

Running his hand one last time over Harry's unruly black mop of hair he gritted his teeth, steeled his face and his stance and then turned towards the ministry officials, sneering at the men before following them through the floo towards the ministry of magic, not knowing what exactly was the meaning of this and when he would be back, his mind unable to forget the small and trembling child he had left back on his sofa in the care of Minerva who wouldn't be able to keep the boy as calm as he would.

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**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_The Potions Master under arrest and the deputy headmistress at the end of her rope_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you


	33. Severus arested

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Running his hand one last time over Harry's unruly black mop of hair he gritted his teeth, steeled his face and his stance and then turned towards the ministry officials, sneering at the men before following them through the floo towards the ministry of magic, not knowing what exactly was the meaning of this and when he would be back, his mind unable to forget the small and trembling child he had left back on his sofa in the care of Minerva who wouldn't be able to keep the boy as calm as he would._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter thirty-three**

**Severus arrested**

The boy was shocked, that much was clear. The problem was just – Minerva wasn't sure what to do. Well, that was an understatement. Honestly, she didn't know what to do at all.

Albus had left Severus' quarters after the Potions Master had been arrested and taken away by the aurors, had said he would contact Cornelius to have a word with the minister. Not that she minded, honestly. After the past few weeks she didn't trust Albus when it came to this boy's safety or well being. But now she was alone with the child that was deeply disturbed and she just didn't know what to do. Severus would know what to do. Severus easily would be able to handle the upset boy. But she was at a loss.

"You should eat something, dear." She said, not sure if she should hold onto her usual formal ways in addressing the students. That surely wasn't what the boy right now needed. Right now the boy needed some kind words and someone who tried to understand his misery. But on the other hand, he didn't react at her kind words and her gentle tone of voice either. The boy simply sat in front of the fireplace, gazing at the flames through which Severus had vanished a few minutes earlier, as if by sitting there he could call the man back.

"Honestly, Harry." She tried again. "Why don't you come over and we have dinner? I'm sure Zilly won't mind to serve something in the living room tonight. This way you will have the fireplace in plain sight. I do not even mind you sleeping on the sofa tonight, dear, so you will be near the floo in case Severus comes back early."

Yet – the boy didn't give an answer. He didn't shake his head, but he didn't nod either. And most of all he didn't turn to look at her, to acknowledge her presence, nor her words.

Coming closer as slowly as possible she reached out and lightly touched the boy's shoulder.

Well, at least she gained a reaction from him now, even if it wasn't the one she had hoped for. The boy flinched away for a moment before he gained control over himself and she sighed, backed off again, not wanting to startle the frightened and confused child any further. If she just would know what Severus would do now, in such a situation.

Of course she had seen the man interact with the boy throughout the past weeks. But honestly, that situation right now, it simply was different. And her younger colleague had so much different tactics in handling that child, it simply was impossible to say what exactly he would have done right now. Sometimes he was strict with the boy and sometimes he was gentle with the boy, and sometimes he even ignored some reactions the boy gave away.

And right now, this man that was needed the most was not here.

"Why don't you look at me, Harry?" She softly said, immediately knowing that it had been the wrong thing. Even if Severus was gentle with the boy, he did not ask for such things, he commanded them. Yet – he didn't do so always. She just wasn't used to such children, children who needed more than a simple head of house, and she only could hope that the boy would be ok.

But when Harry finally looked up at her for a moment, revealing an awful, dead look in a pale and frightened face, Minerva knew that Harry was far from being ok, and she knew that Severus' leaving had destroyed something in Harry – something that she could not put back together with just a few friendly words, something that could put back together only by Severus' return.

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He had been standing since a few moments now in front of the fire through which the Professor had been gone earlier and he still didn't understand.

He had left the fireplace for dinner, he had promised to the Professor after all that he would eat. But he had not been able to bring himself to actually eat anything and he had been glad that Professor McGonagall had not forced him to. He just couldn't eat anything, knowing that the Professor had been arrested and that it had been his fault. And now he maybe wouldn't come back ever again. And that too was his fault.

Well, surely the Professor _would_ come back. Eventually. The man lived here after all. But surely he would throw him out immediately then.

If he wouldn't be here, if he would not exist, then the Professor would not have wanted to adopt him, and if he would not have wanted to adopt him, then he would not have been arrested by the ministry, and if he would not have been arrested by the ministry, then he would not be angry with him. But he had. And of course he would be angry because of it.

Rubbing his tired eyes with his fists he lowered himself onto the floor again, just as he had done earlier, before Professor McGonagall had sent him to bed and then he sat cross legged on the floor in front of the fireplace, staring into the bright flames, waiting. Waiting for the Professor to come back. Eventually. Maybe.

But probably he wouldn't. Maybe he was mad at him that he had not gained enough weight by now. Maybe he was tired of his nightmares. Maybe he was angry at him because he still couldn't speak. Maybe he had become tired of all his weakness and fears. Maybe it was just too much for the Professor to keep him.

Hadn't uncle Vernon always told him how expensive it was to keep him? To feed him? To get him clothes?

And the Professor had done even more. He had given him toys too and a bed and pillows and blankets and … he had done so much. Maybe he couldn't do it anymore?

So – maybe he wanted to send him away when he came back? Because he had gotten him arrested now as a thank you?

He didn't even notice the silent tears that ran down his pale face while he still watched the dancing flames. The pain he felt was just too much to recognize anything else. It was worse than anything else he ever had experienced.

Of course he had experienced emotional pain before, at the Dursleys. But this here was worse. It was so much worse he didn't know how he would survive the night. Well, perhaps it was not really worse, but at least those times hadn't lasted for hours and hours with out an end in sight. And those times it had not been because he had lost something but because he never had had something.

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"May I inquire as to why I am arrested?" Severus asked as soon as he extended the floo at the ministry entrance hall, ignoring the added aurors that awaited them there taking his wand, and he sneered at them in his best Snape-manner.

"That is of no importance right now." One of them who had waited for their arrival answered with a dark scowl.

"I beg to differ, Gardner." The Potions Master turned towards the man, glaring at him. The auror gulped but stood his ground and he noticed out of the corner of his eyes that two of the waiting aurors came closer and took their places at either side of him, waved their wands and bound his hands behind his back with handcuffs.

"You have to accompany us. We on the other hand do not have to answer questions any Death Eaters ask." The auror named Gardner answered.

Knowing that he wouldn't do any good to himself or Harry if he fought now he allowed them to lead him away, knowing that any fight he might pull right now would end bad for the boy who waited for him, presumably upset and worried to no end. Most likely blaming himself for the mess he was in and he couldn't help but worry over the boy. If Harry just kept his promise and ate and slept.

He didn't even fight against the grip two of the aurors had on his upper arms, gritting his teeth and walking straight and proud he had no other option as to allow them to touch him. For now. But as soon as this was over he would have their hides. If only Harry would be well. As well as possible at least. If the boy only would be able to sleep tonight.

But somehow he doubted it. And he wasn't there to comfort him.

Well, Minerva was a stern but a reasonable woman. And she was a head of a house. She would know what to do. He had no other choice than to trust her and her motherly instincts right now. She would do well and she would be able to keep Harry calm. That at least was what he told himself.

His chest on the other hand told something different and he felt the pain like never before. He even could see the boy sitting in front of the fireplace and watching the flames, or hiding underneath his bed, or in the closet, refusing to eat, refusing to sleep, just sitting there, or hiding there, and waiting for his return, questioning himself what he had done wrong, blaming himself for his arrest.

They soon reached one of the cells he already knew. The holding cells in the ground levels of the ministry of magic.

Well, this time at least he would not be shipped away to Azkaban without a trial as he had been last time until Albus had cornered Fudge and given his testimony, had demanded an official trial during which he again had spoken up on his behalf what had led to him being freed of all charges.

A few moments later he was inside the cell, the door closing with a loud 'thud' and leaving nothing but darkness and his worries.

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"Did I not tell you to stay in your bed and sleep, Harry, dear?" Minerva asked, emerging from the kitchen where she had been preparing a strong tea for herself. She just needed some time awake to think of what had just happened.

Why in Merlin's name had Severus been arrested? And who had ordered the arrest in the first place? It simply was unheard of.

Severus had an appointment tomorrow morning at the ministry, yes. And in the past the Death Eaters that had been placed with a keeper and thus out of Azkaban had been arrested the evening before their hearing. It had been standard back then.

But Severus had been cleared of all charges. Years ago. And it had been not only Albus who had given his testimony. And Severus did not have to face a hearing concerning his spying days now, not even court. He only had to face Harvest, Shacklebolt and the minister in the social worker's office. It wasn't an official hearing.

So, why in Merlin's name had they arrested him tonight?

Sighing she concentrated back onto the boy.

Sitting on the floor in front of the fire Harry looked small and lost. More small and lost than normally and she couldn't even blame the boy. Somehow she knew that Severus had become the main pole in the boy's life. A safety rope he could – in the truest sense of the word – cling to and to pull himself along through his fears and his days. The boy needed the man.

"Why don't you just go back to bed, Harry?" She asked, trying to keep her voice as gentle and as patient as possible. She was a much too stern woman to allow her students to be up after curfew – normally.

What was one of the reasons she never visited the Gryffindor common room. She would have to take points and give detention or essays to write each time she entered, as her students never regarded curfew or all of the other rules. And honestly – what she didn't know didn't hurt her. As long as none of them got killed or seriously hurt. She often had asked them what in Merlin's name they had been doing and then just waved them off with the words "I probably wouldn't even want to know, honestly." Because if she knew, then she would have to act, and she still believed in the common sense of her students.

But now – the boy was tired and he definitely needed his sleep. Yet – she received no answer, not even the slightest reaction, as if the boy was so deep in his own mind that he didn't even acknowledge her presence and she couldn't do anything than just leave him be. For now at least. The boy would grow tired. Eventually. She hoped.

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Harry on the other hand – yes, he was tired. But it wasn't just the physical tiredness. Emotionally he was exhausted beyond his limits and he wasn't even able to think any more thoughts about what had happened. Somehow he just existed within his feelings. But this feeling, it was just a miserable existence. He felt miserable.

And his back hurt. His feet from sitting cross legged. His knees. And his head hurt too.

But none of this was important right now. Right now he just knew that the Professor had left. He didn't even remember why he left. He just _had_ left. And now he wasn't there. He wasn't _here_.

And there were so many small things …

The way Professor Snape always looked into his room a few minutes after he went to bed and then tucked the blankets over his shoulders to ensure he wouldn't be cold during the night. The way the Professor always carded his fingers through his hair before he then left his room.

Professor McGonagall did not do this. She had told him to go to bed. And he had done so. But then he had left, he'd just _had_ to leave. He'd just _had_ to go back to the fireplace and wait for the Professor. For _his_ Professor. And Professor McGonagall had not even noticed it. Professor Snape would have known the minute he had left his room. And he would have come and he would have scolded at him.

He would not have beaten him, he never did. And he would not even have screamed at him, this too he never did. But he would have told him in unmistakable terms that he had to go back to his room, back into bed and that he had to sleep. Somehow, Professor McGonagall didn't even notice. Did this mean that Professor Snape was more powerful than her? But they were both heads of houses. And Professor McGonagall was the deputy headmistress, wasn't she? Or did this mean that Professor McGonagall simply did not care if he slept?

She hadn't said much when he didn't eat at dinner either. Not that it would have changed anything. He just had not been able to. He had known that he would have thrown up everything he had eaten as soon as it would have touched his stomach. But she had not even tried. His Professor always reprimanded him if he didn't eat properly.

He never wanted the Professor to scold him, did fear those moments. But right now he would be glad if he had the older wizard back to reprimand him for not eating and not sleeping. If he just would be back.

But he wasn't.

He missed those black eyes. Never before had he seen actually black eyes. Professor Snape had been the first person ever who had black eyes. And the first moment he had seen them, he had been afraid of them. Of their deepness and hardness and coldness and darkness. But right now he knew that those eyes were not cold and not hard. He did not have to fear them. They always calmed him and he even could get lost in their deepness. And somehow the Professor could see past his shell with his dark eyes, could see into his very soul and he always seemed to know what was wrong.

And he missed the Professor's deep and stern voice. That voice too made him calm somehow, made him do what the Professor asked of him even if he didn't really want to do it. The man could say really funny things sometimes, but on other times he just was stern and left no room for argument. And somehow he always could assure him if he was unsure or afraid. This voice, it was like an anchor for him, something that made him relax.

And he missed the Professor's smell. The smell of herbs. Of lavender. But not the synthetic lavender aunt Petunia sometimes had a soap of in her bathroom. No, it was a strong smell that always clung to Professor Snape's robes, thick and full and calming. And there was a weak smell of coriander too. And underneath those two something like tangerine. And all those three scents mixed together made him calm and relaxing and … and … and … it just made him feel well.

And there was the always stern and severe face of the Professor. And his intimidating stance too. And as stern and as intimidating as he always was, he showed such strength – he somehow seemed to drive all the demons away. He somehow understood why some of the other students said the Professor was a vampire. If such creatures as vampire existed, then they surely looked like the Professor. The man definitely could inflict fear with just his appearance. But this way – Merlin, he was sure even uncle Vernon would fear his Professor. And even aunt Petunia. And surely Dudley.

And now he missed the safety the man always radiated, felt himself exposed and uncovered.

And he missed the Professor himself. His presence. Everything the man displayed. His way of moving, his way of looking at him, his way of talking. Just everything.

Again tears ran down his face.

He just wanted his Professor.

He just wanted his father.

He just _needed_ his father.

And he needed him _now_.

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Minerva had done everything she could think of.

She had spoken to Harry – yet the boy had not answered, nor reacted in any other way. She had offered him physical comfort – but Harry had only shied away and had been close to snapping into two. Or into a panic attack, she didn't really know. She had tried to get him to eat something. It had not worked either. Nor getting the boy to sleep.

In the end she even had read him a story. But somehow she knew that Harry didn't listen to her voice. That the boy probably wasn't even aware of her reading and she truly was at the end of her rope now. The only thing left she could think of – was to floo call Poppy. But somehow she knew that the matron wouldn't be able to get the boy out of his stupor either. The boy needed Severus.

For a moment she lowered her head to the left and narrowed her eyes at the boy and then at the fireplace. If she would use the floo now, she only would startle the boy and that she didn't wish to do. But she could use the floo in Severus' office. Making up her mind she knelt beside the boy onto the floor. This time she knew better than to touch the shoulder that seemed so much smaller to her than the broader shoulders of her Gryffindors.

"Harry, dear." She tried, knowing that he again would not acknowledge her. "I will be in Professor Snape's office for a moment. I will be back soon. Maybe you want to go to bed meanwhile?"

Of course she got no answer – yet, she had known, hadn't she? And of course the boy would not go to bed while she would be gone. She knew this too, and with a sigh she got up, ignoring the cracking of her bones. She really was getting too old for sitting or kneeling on the floor. Honestly.

With another sigh she watched the boy a few moments more and then left Severus' quarters through a side door, went to the man's office. It wasn't warded this way and she easily could enter, could even leave the door open so she would hear if Harry had any troubles.

For a moment she huffed.

The boy already _was_ troubled. And he was troubled deeply.

Sighing again and shaking her head she took some floo powder from the mantle and threw it into the fireplace. Immediately the green flames she had wished for flared and she bent down.

"Elsa Harvest's home." She called out, hoping against hope that she would reach the woman without giving the correct address that she just didn't have. If this would not work she would have to go through Severus' drawers in hopes she would find a note with the woman's address. The Potions Master had been in contact with her since years now and surely he would have her address somewhere.

She normally would not break into the younger wizard's personal space, but right now she was desperate and surely the man would not hold it against her later if she did now. That was at least what she hoped.

But she was lucky and a moment later the woman from child service appeared in what seemed to be a living room.

"Professor McGonagall, I take it?" Elsa Harvest asked when she knelt down in front of her fireplace, a slightly confused expression on her face. "What can I do for you?"

"Miss Harvest?" Minerva asked, not sure how safe it was to call the woman. "Elsa Harvest from child service?"

"Yes." The other woman answered. "What can I do for you? Is anything wrong with Professor Snape and Mr. Potter?"

So – Harvest didn't know about Severus' arrest.

"Indeed." She answered. "Professor Snape had been arrested this evening and taken to the ministry."

"I beg your pardon?" Elsa Harvest had the nerve to ask. But then her expression darkened and her fingers curled into fists. "Move aside, woman, I'll come through."

Minerva moved away from the fireplace, barely keeping her temper under control at Harvest addressing her with 'woman'! But then – they had other troubles at hand than pleasantries right now. A moment later the social worker stood in Severus' office and together they went back to the Potions Master's living quarters, Minerva explaining on the way what had happened.

"They had not given any reason, just arrested him and shipped him off to the ministry, a holding cell, I fear. And now Mr. Potter doesn't react to anything. He's just sitting in front of the fire as if to wait for Severus' return. He hadn't eaten anything for dinner and he refuses to sleep."

"Of course he does." Harvest huffed at her and for a moment Minerva thought that she should give the woman a piece of her own mind. She was perfectly capable of caring for children. She proved that each day since years. She might not be as strict as Severus was, nor as harsh or as demanding, but she managed rather well.

And – well, at least none of the students did mess around with her like they did with Pomona or Filius sometimes. Or even Albus. Yet – the students liked them, each of them, especially Albus. They never would mess around with him too much, because they respected him as the great wizard that he was, a hero that had defeated Grindelwald back in his time and that had fought against You-Know-Who during the war that had lasted for years until ten years ago now.

But Filius and Pomona barely had their students under control sometimes. Yet – even they managed. And she, Minerva, did manage her students tenfold. She didn't need a woman from the ministry to tell her off like a school girl that had been caught doing her homework before classes and copying from others.

But then – well, they really didn't have the time for pleasantries.

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"Good evening, Mr. Potter." Elsa Harvest said upon entering Professor Snape's living area and seeing the boy sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, just as Professor McGonagall had said he would.

Sighing she immediately recognized the problem and she knew that she would not get through to the boy that was just too far gone and she cursed Fudge and his idiotic ideas. Arresting the Professor because he had the hearing tomorrow morning. Those actions had been necessary years ago during the war and shortly after. Maybe. But surely not now and surely not against a man who had been cleared of all charges and only wanted to adopt a child in need.

It just was ridiculous. And the boy was the one who had to pay, as it seemed.

Well, she had known how much Harry Potter relented onto Severus Snape. She had felt it this morning during her visit, but that – oh, for Merlin's sake, she simply had to try her best even with the knowledge that she would not get through with a few kind words. She simply would have to settle onto the severity that always had gotten her the children's attention.

"Did Professor Snape not tell you to have some dinner and then go to bed before he left, dear? I am sure he did." She asked, sitting onto the rug beside the boy but restraining herself from touching him, knowing that she only would drive him over the edge then. Well, if he even noticed, that was.

Well, her stern tone of voice didn't work either as it seemed and the boy still stared into the flames. Yet – at least he didn't get afraid either and that at least was something.

'_Yes, something that proves he doesn't notice you at all.'_ A small voice told her and she sighed. She wasn't even sure if she should even try to do anything. Maybe it was best to leave the boy alone. At least for now.

She kept sitting beside the boy for a few minutes, simply watching him, taking in the far away gaze, the tear tracks on the pale face, the fear and the misery that the boy radiated and she shook her head. How Fudge could be so idiotic sometimes, that was beyond her, but this time, he really had taken the cake.

"Aren't you hungry, Mr. Potter?" She tried again a few moments later. "Or maybe tired? I'm sure your bed would be much more comfortable than the rug here in front of the fire. Or maybe even the mattress beneath your bed? To hide? I'm sure Professor McGonagall wouldn't mind you sleeping beneath your bed tonight. Even the sofa would be more adequate if you wish to be near the floo."

But again she got no answer, no reaction from the boy.

For a moment she considered against her own gut feeling to simply pull the boy up and out of his stupor and put him to bed. But then – somehow she knew that this would not help matters this time, not with this boy. And surely not now. It wouldn't be the first time she had to pull a child out of a stupor, honestly, but somehow she knew that it would be a mistake this time. The boy would go into a panic attack at first, or would throw a fit. And after that he would have a breakdown. And even if she would manage to get the child to actually go to bed, he would be up again and sitting back here soon.

"Listen, child." She said, placing a hand on the boy's bent shoulders and she sighed when the boy not even flinched away from the touch. "Professor Snape will be back as soon as possible, that much I can promise you, dear. You are very important to him and as soon as the hearing tomorrow morning is over he quickly will head back. I promise. And if you would sleep the night away, then the time you have to wait would be over before you know it, dear. You would wake up and maybe Professor Snape would be already home from the ministry then."

Well, she should have known that it simply was in vain and with another sigh she got up from the floor after a few more minutes during which she just watched the child.

"I don't think we should force Mr. Potter to leave his spot in front of the fire, Professor." She addressed the other woman while taking a blanket from the backrest of the sofa and simply draping the fabric over the boy's shoulders.

"I beg your pardon?" Professor McGonagall asked in a voice that nearly was shocked. "And leave the boy sitting there all night?"

"It might be hard for you to watch the child sitting there and being so miserable and suffer, but honestly, Professor McGonagall, for the child it is the most comfortable spot right now. Right now it is not really important what is easier for us adults to endure but what would be easier for the child. And right now, leaving him in front of the floo through which Professor Snape surely will come back is the only thing we could do. For him it is as close as he can get to the man that has already become his father in his heart. If we force him to bed right now, he would sit back here half an hour later with the only exception that he would feel betrayed. He would not understand why we keep him from waiting for Professor Snape while his only wish is for the person that soon will be his father to come back. We should not add this pain to the pain he already feels."

Slowly Professor McGonagall nodded, nearly in defeat. She could understand the Professor, honestly. The woman showed every reaction some upset and worried mothers or foster parents showed. But Professor McGonagall simply would have to put up with a rough night. And meanwhile she would visit Fudge and see what she could do.

"So, what do we do?" Professor McGonagall then asked.

"About Mr. Potter, we do nothing but wait." Elsa Harvest answered after a deep sigh. "Maybe he will go to bed by his own eventually during the night. If not, then we only can hope that he will find a comfortable position and fall asleep by himself what will be the most likely thing to happen. Meanwhile I will visit Cornelius and speak up for Professor Snape. Maybe I can get not only information but the minister to release him too, so he can come back until the hearing tomorrow morning. I am even tempted to talk this ridiculous idea concerning the hearing out of the minister's head completely. It had been a stupid idea in the first place and absolutely not standard nor necessary."

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Severus was sitting at the simple cot that was placed in the ministry holding cell, his back resting against the wall and his head leaning against the stone bricks too, thinking.

Yet – the more he thought, the more he worried.

He had been arrested, that much was a fact.

But it had been unexpected. He had his appointment with Elsa Harvest tomorrow morning at eight. Shacklebolt would be present, that much he guessed, and most likely the minister would be present too. The hearing would be held in Miss Harvest's office as it was an informal hearing only concerning the adoption of a child. Thus – he should not have been arrested in the first place, not to mention the evening before the hearing.

Back in time, during the war and shortly after, that had been standard. Death Eaters had been arrested and either held in the ministry holding cells or immediately shipped off to Azkaban. No one had asked questions until a hearing in front of the court. If there had been held a hearing at all. He knew of enough Death Eaters who had been arrested without so much of a hearing. One of them being Black. And him, until Albus had given his testimony.

And back then, it had been standard that any persons who had been under suspicion of being a Death Eater and who had been free but kept with a keeper, had been arrested the evening before a hearing. Back then it had been necessary to simply minimize the chaos the ministry had been under and to ensure that no one would get out of the deserved punishment. And even with those precautions there had been enough Death Eaters who had escaped Azkaban. He just had to think of Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, McNair, Avery, the Carrows and Karkaroff. Here he sneered in disgust. The man was not only a cruel man, and definitely a follower of the Dark Lord, he was a coward too.

However – he was here now, arrested, the day before the hearing concerning his adoption of Harry, and the words Gardener had said earlier, that he would not have to answer a Death Eater's question, it bode not well with him. Somehow he feared that there was more to his arrest than the eye met right now. Somehow Fudge had more in plan than just keeping him arrested until the hearing tomorrow morning with Harvest.

Maybe he would have to face a trial again. Maybe he would have to defend himself once more against being accused of being a Death Eater. Maybe …

But how? How should he do this? Was Albus even aware of how deep this might run? Would Albus be there in time? Or would they manage to ship him off to Azkaban once again? What would become of Harry then? Who would care for the boy if he were facing Azkaban? Who would keep the boy safe if he were imprisoned? Who would …

Growling in frustration he hit his head against the wall in his back, welcoming the pain that kept him from going mad at the thoughts that rounded his mind. He simply knew this did not look well. This looked far from well. And somehow he feared that it might come true. There would be no hearing with Elsa Harvest tomorrow morning, but a trial in front of the Wizengamot.

But then – if the trial would be held in curt, in front of the Wizengamot, then Albus would be present. Albus was part of the Wizengamot. And then surely Albus would give his testimony again.

Or would he really?

It had been Albus who had been against the idea of him adopting Harry. Yes – he had promised that he would back him up, that he would help him, but at first – Albus had been against the idea, had told him he would sent Harry back to this abominable miscreants of muggles, those damn excuses of human beings that were Harry's relatives.

Would Albus really go to such lengths? Just to keep him from adopting the boy?

And what would Albus do if the war resumed? He always had told them that the Dark Lord was not gone for good, that he would come back one day. And hadn't he felt the tingling his mark gave away lately? Sometimes? A soft tingling?

The Dark Lord – there never had been found a body. He simply had vanished after he had killed Lily and Potter. And after he had tried to kill Harry. That Halloween night ten years ago. So, well, yes – it simply was possible that the Dark Lord would come back one day. Sooner or later.

But what would Albus do then if he were imprisoned? He was the old man's spy after all. He was the only one who would be able to bring back information to the order as to what the Dark Lord and his bunch of Death Eaters were up to. There was no one else. Would Albus really risk losing his only spy?

For a second time he huffed. Yes. Albus definitely would sacrifice him if it were to his benefit.

Albus might seem to be an old wizard, grandfatherly, kind, caring and unable to harm a simple fly. But Severus knew the man. He knew him since long. Not only as the headmaster that Albus was, but as a warrior too. He had fought side by side with this old man in the last wizarding war against the Dark Lord.

Well, not actually side by side as Albus rarely had fought against Tom Riddle personally. He always had had his people whom he had sent out to the battlefield. So – yes, Albus definitely _had _scarified enough people during the last war. Sometimes it was as if Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore had been playing a game of chess, still were playing this game, and all of them, Severus, Minerva, Lily, even Potter, Lupin, Moody and all the others had been their chessmen.

He briefly wondered what figure he was in this wretched game. Surely not a pawn. He knew he was too important for being a simple pawn. Maybe a knight, or a castle, maybe a bishop. Well, yes, probably a bishop. He would like this idea. A bishop was a good piece of chess. And nevertheless he didn't like the idea in general. He had been acting between two mad and dangerous wizards.

And Albus truly was far from being a kind and gentle grandfather. Albus was – in his own way – as cruel and as mad as was the Dark Lord himself.

No, Albus Dumbledore would not shy from sacrificing him if it was to his benefit.

What he did not understand was – _how _would it be to Albus' benefit if he, Severus, was imprisoned and kept from adopting Harry.

Well, yes. There was the prophecy. Harry would be the one who would have to defeat the Dark Lord one day. But honestly – Harry was a child right now. And where would be the benefit in sending the boy back to the Dursleys? What had the old man in his mind by sending the boy back to an abusive household where he – most likely – would not survive until he would come of age? Where he would be killed by his aunt or uncle before he reached his seventeenth birthday?

He just did not understand.

Somehow he couldn't shake off the feeling that Albus really had known all along about the Dursleys. Sometimes he could not imagine that Albus would be _that_ cruel and send a small child to a household where he would be hated, abused, misused as a slave and nearly starved to death. But somehow he could not shake the feeling off that the headmaster had known.

And _if_ he had known, then there could have been only one reason, even if it was a wretched reason for which Albus belonged imprisoned in Azkaban for the rest of his life himself. The only reason he could think of was that Albus wanted the boy to suffer in order to make him an obedient weapon he could send into war later. A weapon broken enough so the boy would do everything he was ordered to, even to walk into his own death. And by facing the Dark Lord – after what the boy had been through – it would be nothing else than a suicide mission.

And he couldn't help feeling betrayed by the man he had counted as his friend. As one of his very, very few friends. As one out of actually only three people he counted as his friends. And as it seemed, right now Minerva was the only one whom he could count onto. And maybe Elsa Harvest, maybe. Herbaceous wouldn't be able to help him this time.

Well, he had survived being a spy in a dangerous war between two madmen, he had survived being a Death Eater in a dangerous war between two madmen, and he had survived the time after this war when chaos had been all that had ruled within the ministry and outside in the wizarding world itself. He had survived. And he would survive again now. And even if it was just for Harry-Bloody-Snape-The-Boy-Who-Had-No-One-Else-Beside-Of-Him.

He chuckled for a moment at the thought that he hadn't called the boy names for weeks now.

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"I do not care if the minister is in his bed, in his bathtub or with his cock in a woman." Elsa Harvest growled at the security that stood in front of the minister's quarters at the ministry. "I want you to step aside and allow me entrance this instant or remaining in possession of your own cock will be the merest of your problems."

She had her wand in her hand and pointed it at the lower regions of the young wizard who went beet red before quickly stepping aside, deciding that it wasn't worth his job if he came home without … uhm … well … you know what. His wife simply would kill him, if Harvest didn't do so beforehand.

The woman didn't even bother to knock at the door but simply threw it open and entered the exquisite quarters with swift strides, crossed the large parlor and then threw the door to minister Fudge's sleeping chamber open, taking in the startled expression on the man's face with quite a lot of satisfaction.

"What in Merlin's …"

"You better refrain from saying anything at all, Cornelius Fudge." Elsa Harvest growled, cutting off the minister's words and stunning him into silence. "What were you thinking, _minister_, arresting Severus Snape?" She asked, sneering the word minister at him. "What reason did you even have to arrest the Professor? Is it common handling now to arrest people for a simple and informal hearing concerning child adoption? And a day _before_ said hearing not to mention? A hearing that is no trial in front of court or the Wizengamot but to be held in _my_ office? And under _my_ responsibility? You will release Professor Snape this instant, minister. You had no right to abuse your powers in such a way simply because you hold a grudge against this man who is about to do something good."

Cornelius Fudge had left his bed meanwhile, exposing horribly striped pyjamas and was now slipping into a morning robe that was just as horribly striped as were his sleeping clothes.

"I am sorry, Elsa, but I simply cannot do so." He said. "Severus Snape …"

"And that would be why, Cornelius?" The woman seethed at the man, still holding her wand in her hand, her wand that spat sparks into different directions, clearly showing her anger.

"As I was to explain, Elsa, Severus Snape is a Death Eater and he …"

"Severus Snape has been cleared of all charges years ago, Cornelius." Elsa Harvest growled darkly. "He never has been a real Death Eater but a spy to the order in the first place and he has risked his life during the war on countless times. You should treat him like that!"

"The man _had_ been a Death Eater." Cornelius Fudge said, eyeing the woman's wand suspiciously. "He had admitted so and he even bears the dark mark. And as a Death Eater I simply cannot allow …"

"Of course he bears the dark mark, Cornelius." The woman from child welfare spat. "Honestly, Cornelius. Did you think that he would have been able to avoid taking the mark from You-Know-Who without risking his position as a spy? Where have you lost your brains, man?"

"I really think your tone is inappropriate, Elsa. You should …"

"My tone is inappropriate, Cornelius? My tone? Your _actions _are inappropriate!"

"They are not!" The minister for magic took a step backwards when the woman lifted her wand and pointed it at his chest, sparks shooting out from the wand tip with each accusing movement she made, nearly reaching him and setting his pyjamas aflame. "Severus Snape has been on trial for being a Death Eater and even if he had wormed his way out of Azkaban because Albus gave his testimony on the man's behalf, he had been a Death Eater. And once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. A leopard does not simply loose its spots. And thus I cannot allow him to adopt Mr. Harry James Potter. Imagine, Elsa, The-Boy-Who-Lived being adopted by a Death Eater. He would turn the boy dark. He would create the next Dark Lord with the boy. Honestly, I never understood why in Merlin's name Albus allowed him a position on his school and if I had any say in this then …"

"But you do not have any say in this, Cornelius Fudge, luckily." Elsa Harvest took another step towards the minister, her wand still moving threateningly, angrily in front of her to make her point, still sending sparks at the minister. "Hogwarts luckily is in the headmaster's and the school governors' hands and the ministry has no say in those matters. And concerning Professor Snape, I do not see your point. Your accusation is the most ridiculous I ever have heard, even from you, Cornelius, honestly! Just release the man and let him and the boy alone."

"Surely I will not so such a stupid thing, Elsa!" The minister growled, getting more and more irritated at the woman and her wand in front of him. He simply did not like the sparks shooting from her wand. "In the contrary. Severus Snape will face a second trial tomorrow morning and this time I made sure that he won't be able to worm his way out of Azkaban. This time he will get the punishment he deserves."

"I beg your pardon?" Elsa Harvest spluttered in shock. "Trial? What do you accuse him of this time? And you can't do this. The hearing is tomorrow morning at eight."

"The hearing won't take place and neither will the adoption. Tomorrow morning Snape will face trial and he will be charged of being a Death Eater, just like last time. Only that we this time have new evidence."

"New evidence?" The woman demanded to know. "What kind of evidence?"

"Lucius Malfoy has agreed to be a witness."

"You cannot be serious, minister." Elsa Harvest said, her voice low now and suddenly she felt ill. "Lucius Malfoy is a man who had escaped Azkaban due to his money, connections and knowledge of laws. He has slithered his way out of Azkaban by politics and worming you around his fingers. If there is a Death Eater, then it is Lucius Malfoy. You really cannot be serious."

"I am, Elsa, and that is my last word."

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Severus on trial_

_Will Elsa Harvest be able to do something?_

_And how is Harry faring meanwhils?_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you


	34. the trial

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

I do know that I am a bit early with this chapter, but I am not present here on FF during the weekend as I visit a chatter meeting ... and thus - I had to decide if I update now or if I simply skip updating this week ... as you see, I have decided to your benefit ... :-) ... I do hope you will not be too upset upon my decision ... *lol* …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"You cannot be serious, minister." Elsa Harvest said, her voice low now and suddenly she felt ill. "Lucius Malfoy is a man who had escaped Azkaban due to his money, connections and knowledge of laws. He has slithered his way out of Azkaban by politics and worming you around his fingers. If there is a Death Eater, then it is Lucius Malfoy. You really cannot be serious."_

_"I am, Elsa, and that is my last word."_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter thirty-four**

**The trial**

"Of course, I have heard about Severus Snape adopting Harry Potter. And yes, of course I have not been pleased, of course not, Madam Harvest." Lucius Malfoy reached one of the teacups over the table towards the woman from child welfare. "Severus is a friend of mine. He is my son's godfather, a teacher and a head of a house no less. And honestly, adopting a child like Potter, who never in his life lacked anything, who is spoiled and surely without any manners, will keep Severus not only busy but at the end of his wits also." He took a sip of his tea and then placed the cup back on the table. "Nevertheless, I do not see what my humble person would have to do with that particular matter. In the end, it is Severus' decision alone."

"Then maybe you could tell me as to why you agreed to give your testimony at the trial Professor Snape has to face tomorrow morning, Mr. Malfoy?" Elsa Harvest asked with a voice that made clear she was more than just angry.

Lucius Malfoy lowered his head to his left and furrowed his brows in an inquisitive manner. Severus? Facing a trial? Tomorrow morning? That was the first time he heard about that. Severus could not face a trial, he had been cleared of all charges years ago and one could not order a person for a repeated trial for reasons that had been cleared years ago on the spur of the moment. If Fudge would do so now, then he could do so tomorrow again, and the day after tomorrow, next week, next month and next year. Then he would be able to do so whenever he pleased to and thus it simply was not an option. The minister would go against the laws, so why in Merlin's name did Harvest say such a thing? What had the woman in mind?

"I beg your pardon, Madam Harvest?" He asked, his brows still furrowed at the woman and his grey eyes were narrowed at her.

"You don't know, Mr. Malfoy?" The woman asked and then shook her head. "Professor Snape would face a simple hearing about child adoption tomorrow morning. Yet, the minister cancelled the appointment and made a trial out of it. He will be charged again of being a Death Eater, and he told me in person that this time the Professor would face Azkaban as he had your word of witness."

"That is preposterous, Madam Harvest." Lucius Malfoy growled. "I do not know _what exactly _the minister is playing at, but even as Severus and I may not always have had the same opinion, he is a close friend of mine. I surely cannot understand the reason why Severus would want to adopt Potter, but that is Severus' decision and his only. Surely I would not do such a thing as giving word against him in order to prevent him from adopting a child if this is his wish. Whoever said child might be."

"You mean to say that you did not know of Professor Snape's trial then?" Elsa Harvest blinked at the aristocrat that sat opposite of her in one of the elegant armchairs.

"No, Madam Harvest, I did not know of this trial and I surely did not agree to act witness."

"Then … I do not understand … why would Cornelius say such a thing?"

"I cannot answer you this question, Madam Harvest, but be assured, I will be present tomorrow morning at the ministry for the trial as I too am curious what exactly Cornelius is playing at. I just ask you to _not _inform the minister of your visit at Malfoy Manor nor of our conversation."

"Why ever not, Mr. Malfoy?" Elsa Harvest asked, not understanding what the man wanted to do. "Maybe we could prevent the trial before it even started?"

"Because the Slytherin way sometimes is the most effective." Lucius answered, smirking. "Do you honestly believe Cornelius Fudge will answer our questions truthfully if we now address him about the trial or Severus and his wish to adopt Mr. Potter?"

The woman shook her head, sighing.

"Indeed." Lucius sneered. "But if we allow the minister to play his game for now, we can gain more information and then act more wisely, would you not agree?"

"Yes, I guess you might be right. I only hope that this will work out well. It would not do any good to Professor Snape and surely not to the child. Both had been through enough in their lives, I dare to say."

"Why is it, that Severus wants to adopt Mr. Potter in the first place, Madam Harvest, if I might ask this question." Lucius Malfoy wanted to know from the child welfare worker. "Last I knew he wasn't so fond of – a _Potter_. I always thought he would be realistic enough to see that the boy is nothing than a spoiled brat who never lacked anything in his life."

"Well, maybe Professor Snape has recognized that his view of that child had been wrong, Mr. Malfoy." Elsa Harvest growled darkly and for a moment Lucius only could lift his eyebrows at the woman. Severus surely would be proud of her growl if he were interested in any women. But as it was, that man was a convinced bachelor.

"The only things young Mr. Potter lacked during the ten years he lived with his relatives, had been food, freedom, sleep, proper clothes and the love of a family. Instead he had been beaten, starved and – even raped."

This time Lucius nearly spat the tea he had taken a sip from over the table and his cold grey eyes went large.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, his voice incredulous.

"I am sure you understood each word I said, Mr. Malfoy." Elsa Harvest huffed.

"Do I get that correctly and you wish to tell me that the boy had been abused? And in such a manner no less?"

"Yes, you do get that correctly, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius Malfoy was silent for a long time and his eyes were directed pensively at the large fireplace.

Dumbledore was the magical guardian of Potter and he had placed the boy with the muggle relatives of Lily Potter if he remembered correctly. He had placed wards around the house, blood wards, as Lily Potter had died in order to keep her son safe, the reason why the boy had survived the Dark Lord's killing curse.

Had that man never ever checked on the boy? On the saviour of the wizarding world?

If he had not, then he had neglected his duty as the boy's magical guardian. If he had, then he had done an even more hideous crime, then he had allowed those muggles to abuse the boy, and to abuse him in a most severe way. Either way, Dumbledore was at fault. Not to mention the fact that he was sure that Dumbledore knew and maybe that had been the reason as to why he never had checked on the boy. There was nothing the headmaster did not know and thus there was no way that he had not known about the boy being abused by his muggle relatives.

But why would he do such a thing?

Well, if Severus now wanted to adopt the boy, then he would stop the abuse. Severus was not a man who mistreated children. He had lived through abuse by himself for far too long a time by the hands of his drunken father. Again, a muggle. So – the abuse would stop as soon as Severus had adopted the boy.

So - if Dumbledore had known, then the headmaster maybe indeed had had a reason as to why he had wanted the boy abused – and he was sure that was what had happened. And if Severus adopted the boy and stopped it, he would cross the headmaster's plans, whatever plans that might have been.

"Do not tell anyone of this conversation, Madam Harvest." Lucius growled darkly. "I might not be a kind man and even as a father I am a very stern and strict man, but I detest child abuse. I do not know what exactly Dumbledore and the minister are playing at, but right now I do not care either. I will call upon a few connections of mine and be assured I will be present at the ministry tomorrow morning with a solution. Do not worry, Madam, and do not tell anyone. We would not want the minister and Dumbledore changing plans, now, would we?"

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Severus growled darkly while the metal bands restrained him to the chair that stood in the middle of the courtroom, not allowing them to see his fear. Well, if he would end up in Azkaban, then he finally would get what he deserved. But Harry would pay for it. It would be Harry who …

_No, he better did not think about that right now. He had to concentrate onto the trial._

Dumbledore was not there, he should have known. And Elsa Harvest looked just as afraid as he felt. Lucius Malfoy looked as smug as always and the minister glowered darkly at him, yet – something like satisfaction glinted in his eyes. Narcissa was not present, yet – he had not thought she would.

If only he somehow could get out of this without ending up in Azkaban. Harry surely would never recover …

Closing his eyes he forced his thoughts away from Harry for the hundredth time this day. He simply had to concentrate onto the trial and use all his Slytherin traits to keep himself out of prison. He could not afford to end up in Azkaban, not if Harry needed him. The boy only would be destroyed completely if he now …

_Oh, for Merlin's pants – he simply could not think at the boy right now!_

"Hereby I reopen the trial against Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry and Death Eater to He Who Must Not Be Named. Professor Severus Snape is charged with being a Death Eater, having tortured and murdered innocent muggles, muggleborn and witches and wizards who fought against He Who Must Not Be Named during the time He Who Must Not Be Named has been active. Furthermore Professor Severus Snape is charged with teaching dark magic to the students of before mentioned school. The sentence he will have to face if found guiltily will be a life sentence in Azkaban, the wizarding prison." Fudge stated, his boring voice being heard clearly through the courtroom. "I will now ask Lucius Malfoy into the witness stand to give his testimony and hopefully we will be over this as soon as possible."

Lucius Malfoy walked towards the witness stand, casting a long look over Severus and the Potions Master growled darkly back at him. He knew that Lucius and he had had their differences in the past, concerning the Dark Lord. And he knew that Lucius was a loyal follower of the bastard, but nevertheless they had been friends. Sort of.

Lucius had known that he, Severus, had followed the Dark Lord only because he had wished to prove himself, to have kind of a family to belong to and because no other one had believed in him. Lucius never had known that he had been a spy, but he always had known that he had tried to help the Dark Lord's victims as best as possible.

He had not liked it, but he had accepted it and he had stood up to him whenever the Dark Lord had discovered that he had freed them, had given a pain relieving potion or a calming potion to those victims, whenever he even had killed them in order to prevent them from a much more painful and horrendous death, knowing that death would get them anyway, knowing that he would not be able to get them out of the Dark Lord's hands.

Most times he had managed to give a reasonable explanation to the Dark Lord as to why he had acted thus, but regrettably not always. And then Lucius had given an explanation by himself, risking punishment as well.

He had not thought that Lucius would get him imprisoned now.

"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy." Irvin Miller, the ministry's lawyer began his questioning. "We are glad that you could make it to this very important appointment."

"Indeed." Lucius sneered, casting another glance at the Potions Master and Severus gritted his teeth. "Especially if you consider that until yesterday evening I didn't even know of this - _important _trial against Professor Snape."  
Severus blinked in near shock at the man he knew he had to be careful around but nevertheless was something like a close person. The only close person he'd had within the Death Eater ranks anyway. What exactly was Malfoy up to? What exactly had the man in his mind? And what did he mean, he had not known about this trial?

"I am not sure what you want to say, Mr. Malfoy." Miller said, shaking his head. "As I am informed, the summonses were sent to you a week ago."

A week ago? Then that had been planned in the long run. It had not been a rush decision from Fudge.

"A week ago, Mr. Miller?" Lucius asked, his eyes still cold. "I do not know whom exactly you invited then, but I can assure you, not my person, because would I not have had a strange visit last night, then I would not even yet had known of this trial."

Whispers erupted through the courtroom and Severus blinked even more. He did not really understand what was happening and the fear he felt for Harry did not really help with his concentration either.

"You are Lucius Malfoy?" The ministry lawyer asked, skipping through his folder until he had a piece of parchment he had been searching for.

"Indeed." Lucius sneered at the man as if being disgusted by his stupidity.

"And your home is Malfoy Manor?"

"Indeed." Came the answer again.

"Then the summons has reached you, Mr. Malfoy." Miller said, reaching the parchment towards the aristocrat. "A week ago. And you even have answered with your agreement."

"That might be, Mr. Miller, because someone has acted as my person and even has counterfeited my handwriting." Lucius smirked at the man. "And if you visit Malfoy Manor's private holding cell, then you will find the person who has wronged me. Namely Narcissa Malfoy nee Black."

Again the murmur rose and Severus held his breath, not really understanding what just now had happened, not really understanding what exactly was the meaning of this and not knowing what he should think of this.

"Nevertheless …" Lucius stood up now and addressed not only the ministry lawyer but the minister personally. "I do know what I have been summoned for and I only can tell you that Severus Snape indeed never has been a true and loyal follower to He Who Must Not Be Named. If I remember correctly, and I am sure I do, then he has been cleared of all charges years ago and to reopen his files and to get him in front of the Wizengamot again now, years later, for a second time, is not only against the laws but a crime on Professor Snape himself. Our laws has been installed to protect each witch and wizard within this community from being charged by court or the Wizengamot to the minister's whims. And you, minister, have abused your powers."

"How dare you …" Cornelius Fudge gasped, getting to his feet as well. "How dare you …"

At the same time an owl swooped through one of the high windows in the dome-shaped ceiling and swept towards the minister dropping a red letter onto the dark wooden court desk.

Shaking his head in confusion Severus noticed that it clearly was a howler and he wondered if this day could go any crazier than it already was while he watched the minister to pick up the letter with trembling fingers, shock written all over his face. He looked towards Lucius and lifted his eyebrow when he saw the amused smirk crossing the pale face. As it seemed, Lucius had known what would happen, or he at least had guessed.

"How could you, Cornelius!" The screeching voice of Molly Weasley echoed through the courtroom, causing several faces to pale, including the minister's face. "How – could – you! Not only have you acted against the laws – and believe me I do know them – but you also accuse a very honourable man with a crime he never had done. Not to mention that you keep Severus from the child he has chosen as his son, a child who has been through enough because of your blindness. How you got the post as the minister of magic in the first place is a riddle to me, and believe me, I won't support your campaign again! Severus has done nothing than wanting to help a child in need and if you keep him from giving his support and love to Harry then I swear, you will have to answer me."

For a moment Severus knew _why _Molly Weasley was a woman that was feared, not only by her children and her husband but by the entire wizarding world. This woman could inflict fear even if she wasn't present, her voice and her choice of words made sure of this. He only groaned by her last sentence. He was not a man who gave love! That woman clearly was about to destroy his reputation if word of this got out. And considering the press that was scribbling furiously, word _would_ get out of this.

Before he however could think any further thoughts, another owl swooped through the high window and again a red letter was dropped onto the desk in front of Cornelius Fudge who knew better than to ignore them, while a third owl came soaring down.

"I never believe I ever have supported your campaign!" A voice screamed that reminded him strangely at Augusta Longbottom, Neville Longbottom's grandmother who raised the boy since his parents were in St. Mungos. "How could you agree to a child being placed with an abusive family! And how can you now bring absolutely ridiculous charges against the only man who is ready to adopt the poor boy and give him his well deserved peace and childhood? Severus Snape might be a strict man but he surely is not a cruel man! How can you! If I hear that you continue with this nonsense, then believe me, I will ask a few of my own connections to pay back their depths."

"You are no better than You Know Who, minister!" Another voice bellowed through the courtroom, one Severus did not recognize, just while two other owls delivered two more howlers. "Sending a child to an abusive family! And then sending the only man who could be a reasonable and honourable father to said child to Azkaban! For no reason no less! You are evil, minister and be assured I won't accept you as our Minister anymore! It would be as if I would accept You Know Who as minister what I of course never would!"

It went on a few more minutes until the ministry officials finally managed to close the upper windows of the courtroom, thus blocking the owls delivering any more howlers, but Severus knew the damage already was done. If he just knew what exactly had happened to cause such an uproar in the wizarding world. Well, the only answer that came to his mind was the Daily Prophet, but honestly, who had managed to get them to write an article that would get the entire wizarding world upset?

And considered him, Severus Snape, former Death Eater as an honourable man no less? Last time the Daily Prophet had published an article about him, he had been accused of killing the students at Hogwarts.

Well, if Rita Skeeter had written this article, then he could understand, that woman always got the wizarding world in an uproar. But to get the public on _his side_, on the side of a former Death Eater, that was not like Skeeter at all. That woman normally caused more terrible havoc than anything else.

He cast another glance towards Lucius Malfoy, noticing the smug smirk that he didn't even try to hide on his face and somehow he knew that Lucius had behind this all. But how the man had managed to get Skeeter to write an article that actually did something good, that was entirely beyond him.

"Well, now, Cornelius, I guess that the public's opinion has been made very clear." Lucius finally said, not even waiting until being addressed by the ministry lawyer. He didn't care anymore about showing respect towards this court and the man he had helped into the minister's chair. "And I am sure that this court, this witches and wizards who act as judges for all the wizarding world, will judge fairly and not only withdraw the charges against Severus Snape, but give their consent concerning his adoption of Harry Potter, a child that has been abused, mishandled and raped by the hands of his relatives for ten years now, too. A boy that has known nothing as pain and fear until Professor Snape has chosen to take actions and act as a guard and a protector to that child. Furthermore I hereby do withdraw my own support towards the ministry of magic as long as Cornelius Fudge is acting as its first man as I do not trust the minister any longer. I am a father by myself and if our children are not important enough for this ministry to keep them safe, then I will have to ensure other measures. And last but not least, I will inform the board of governors of Albus Dumbledore's decision about placing Harry Potter, the saviour of the wizarding world, with a muggle family that was abusive without once checking on said child. I am sure the governors as well as I will ask the questions as to why Albus Dumbledore never checked on the boy as he was his magical guardian, as to if the headmaster had known about the abuse all along and thus allowed it and as to how the minister could allow such to happen too. I am sure you, the Wizengamot, the witches and wizards that are judges to protect the wizarding community, will judge with wisdom and with justice."

Once again Severus blinked in near shock at the man he thought he knew, hearing those strange words from the aristocrat who normally was a rather cold blooded politician. Those words right now did not sound very political and he wondered what exactly had caused the man to say them. Not to mention the fact that Lucius suddenly was supporting him. Hadn't it been Lucius who had written those letters to Draco, who had sent a dangerous potion to Draco, in order to harm Harry? And now he acted as if …

'_That might be, Mr. Miller, because someone has acted as my person and even has counterfeited my handwriting._

Was it really that easy? Had Narcissa really betrayed her husband? Why would she do such a thing as Lucius provided her with not only money, but with a name and with pride as well. Narcissa was living a life in luxury, travelling whenever and where to ever she wanted, shopping with money to spend on one afternoon that other families did not have in a year if she wished to. Not to mention the social stand she held within the wizarding world.

Why in Merlin's name would she give up all of this and betray her husband? And she surely had known that Lucius would leave her if she betrayed him thus. Lucius might be a loyal man, and he was not a man who rushed into decisions, but he never took betrayal on his person lightly. So – why had Narcissa done so?

Maybe because of Bellatrix Lestrange, nee Black, her sister? But Bellatrix Lestrange was imprisoned in Azkaban, she had gained herself a live time sentence in the wizarding prison. So, what should that woman have to do with all of this? The more he thought about it, the more confused he got and as he next looked over to the man that had come to his help, Lucius was about to stroll out of the courtroom without once looking back, shoving the double winged doors open with both hands and leaving without closing them behind him.

A leaving that was worth a Malfoy.

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Filius Flitwick knocked at Severus' quarters.

Today he would try the levitating charm with the boy again. Minerva had told him how well their lesson with the elementary magic had went two days earlier and maybe if he let the boy work with his eyes closed, maybe he would get him to manage his task. At least the boy never had gotten his feather exploded like Seamus Finnigan a few weeks ago.

In the contrary. Considering that the boy wasn't able to say his incantations, He had done rather well. Whatever charm he had tried to teach him up to now, he had gotten at least a reaction out of the object. The feather had tried to float with the levitating charm and the book had tried to move with the summoning charm. And that was something.

Finnigan and Longbottom had not managed more yet and they didn't have such a disability than had the Potter boy.

He lowered his head to one side curiously when Minerva opened the door. Normally Minerva wasn't present for his lessons with the boy. But then he noticed her pale and worried face.

"Filius!" She said and the small teacher furrowed his brows.

"What happened, Minerva?" He asked, blinking in shock at her worried tone.

"Do come in, Filius." She said, standing aside and allowing him entrance. She however did not lead him to the sofa but kept staying at the entrance door.

"Severus has been arrested." She whispered and after gazing towards the fireplace and seeing Potter sitting on the floor in front of the floo, his eyes seemingly glued to the grey ashes, he knew why she whispered and why she did not lead him closer. She didn't want the boy to hear her. Yet – somehow he doubted that the boy would hear them anyway.

"What do you mean, Minerva?" He asked, his voice serious now. "What happened? And when? And why?"

"Yesterday evening, Filius." The deputy headmistress answered. "Aurors came and arrested him. He would have had his hearing with Miss Harvest this morning at eight, but they got him arrested last night. And now it is ten and he still isn't back. Not to mention that the boy had been present and he has seen all of it, how the aurors has arrested Severus. I haven't been able to get him to sleep since, or to eat something. He doesn't even notice when I speak to him, I believe. I don't know what to do anymore."

Giving a deep growl in the back of his throat Filius Flitwick furrowed his brows and then walked over towards the fireplace. He lowered his head to his left and then he sat beside the boy, summoning a cushion. Without hesitation he cast a levitating charm on the cushion so it hovered I front of the boy who automatically placed his arms onto the soft hovering cushion, laid his head on top of his arms and within not even a minute the boy had his eyes closed and his breathing evened out.

He cushioned the rug the boy was sitting on and then slowly, inch for inch lowered the cushion the boy was laying at with his arms and head towards the ground until the child himself was laying on the floor, his head still resting on the cushion, his eyes still closed and still asleep. Taking the blanket that had been falling to the floor sometimes during the procedure, he tucked the boy in before he got up and without a word of explanation entered Severus' personal laboratory.

Only a few moments later he came back with an empty vial in his hand and placing his wand tip towards his temple he extracted some memories and placed the silver white strands into the vial before he corked the small glass container close.

"I will be back as soon as possible." He said before waving his wand into the direction of the boy and placing a silencing charm around the sleeping form, just in case. Then he hurriedly left with a grim expression on his face, still without any explanations to the deputy headmistress, but honestly, Minerva did not care. As long as someone tried to do something he did not care _what _it was.

As much as she knew, Albus hadn't even been down here to look after the boy. Not to mention that she didn't know if he had done something regarding Severus' arrest.

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It was just a few moments after the ministry officials had managed to close the upper windows to keep the owls outside the courtroom. Just a few moments after that, even before they had managed to close the double winged doors that Lucius had thrown open when he had left.

A young man, one of the ministry juniors, ran into the room, up the aisle and straight towards Fudge, Bones, the ministry lawyer and Harvest, reaching a newspaper to each of them while he went towards the clerk who took the notes and gave him the remaining Daily Prophet.

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Filius Flitwick left the floo network in the ministry of magic just the moment when Lucius Malfoy strode through the foyer to leave the building and both men gazed at each other for a moment before Lucius pointed towards the vial Flitwick held in his hand.

"A memory concerning Severus and young Mr. Potter, Flitwick?" He asked.

The charms teacher wasn't sure if he should answer. He didn't trust Malfoy any more than he trusted Severus. But then – hadn't Severus proven to be … that he … well, he had been wrong about Severus. And maybe, just maybe, he could trust Malfoy as well? But what if … it wasn't as if Malfoy … well …

"_IF_ ... this is a memory concerning help for Mr. Potter or Severus, then you should hurry to courtroom ten, Flitwick. It doesn't look good for the two of them." He hesitated for a moment before he finally extended his hand back towards the direction he had come from in an inviting manner and then strode back, slower than he normally would but still quickly enough so the smaller man had to hurry to keep up with the large strides Malfoy made.

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Cornelius Fudge read the article on the front page that immediately took his eyes captive and over the first few lines he smirked satisfied.

_**Death Eater arrested over daring to claim the Boy Who Lived for adoption**_

_The entire wizarding world has known Severus Snape, Potions Master, Professor at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry and head of Slytherin house as a man who had been accused of being a Death Eater, an evil man who had committed a lot of crimes such as torture, and murder and last but not least of being an unfair and rather bastardly teacher on before mentioned boarding school._

_Many worried parents have sent letters, howlers and protests to headmaster Albus Dumbledore and Professor Severus Snape years ago when the man had been starting his post at Hogwarts, worried about their children being taught by a Death Eater, by a dark and cold man who had murdered in cold blood._

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Elsa Harvest growled darkly upon reading the first few lines, looking over to Cornelius Fudge who had a smug grin on his face, and really, it was no wonder at all. This article just would be to his benefit and she swore she would kill Skeeter, because she was sure that Skeeter had written this particular article.

But then the smug grin on Fudges Face vanished, was replaced by a look of horror and wondering why, she continued reading.

_Every one had been shocked and upset into an uproar at the headmaster who had given the post of a teacher and of a head of a house no less to this man and this reporter has been one of them – until recently._

_Only hours ago this reporter has learned of what a misunderstood hero our shunned and dark Potions Master in reality is, only acting the terrible man in order to keep his role as a spy and bring information to the light, enduring mistrust and risking his life each time he had been summoned by He Who Must Not Be Named, and often coming out of those Death Eater meetings wounded and even close to death in order to bring the newest information to Albus Dumbledore, head of the order of the phoenix. _

_Few has known how gentle, protective and even loving this man in reality was, keeping his more pleasant traits hidden behind his cold and indifferent demeanour. _

_And now Severus Snape, Potions Master and head of Slytherin house has found a young person that not only is as scarred and as mistaken as the man himself is, but who is in need of love and a caring adult too. This reporter speaks of Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. A boy, abused by his muggle relatives Albus Dumbledore, his magical guardian, placed him with at the tender age of one when his parents died, killed by He Who Must Not Be Named. _

_Those muggles, his aunt and uncle, has been abusing the child throughout ten years and only with horror this reporter can write about the way that Harry Potter has been beaten, starved and used as a slave in their household. _

_Few readers of this respectable paper might view Severus Snape as an understanding and caring adult who would willingly adopt a horribly abused and scarred child of eleven years, but it is with this reporter's utmost pleasure that she can report that Harry Potter has found not only a worthy guardian in that dark man but a fiercely protective parent who will be able to handle said child with understanding and care as were the boy of his own blood because of experiences in his own youth._

_Yes, this reporter has heard it with her own ears from a witness about how scarred our young hero is by himself, about what a difficult life he had lived in his own youth._

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Amelia Bones who was sitting beside the minister had made her mind up long ago.

Not only had Cornelius ignored the laws in reopening Snape's files, but he has crossed the line of ethic as well while doing so. The man honestly had been a spy for long enough under the risk of his own life and Cornelius had known this. Not to mention that she had read the medical files concerning young Mr. Potter Poppy Pomfrey had sent to them for the Dursley's trial. As had Cornelius and the man simply should have known what he would cause for the boy by arresting Severus.

Of course she knew that Snape wasn't a very friendly man. But she knew that he was a teacher at a boarding school and Head of Slytherin since more than ten years now, that he handled children since more than ten years now. She had been a Slytherin by herself back in her time. And she still had connections to some of her old classmates. Thus she knew that Snape handled them well and that he cared for them deeply. Young Mr. Potter would be in good hands if he was placed under Snape's care.

Thus she smiled by reading the article, now knowing where all those owls delivering howlers came from.

_Severus Snape, respectable Potions Master who has gained his mastery with the young age of twenty-one years, has come from an abusive home by himself, his father being an addicted alcoholic who had murdered the young teenager's mother in a drunken state and even when he attended Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, he often has been misunderstood and bullied by his fellow students that led the young Severus into becoming a cold and dark man who tried to hide his true feelings in order to protect himself from further hurt and emotional pain._

_His teenage mistake in following He Who Must Not Be Named – for only a few weeks, as this resourceful reporter can now write – has led him to being branded and shunned for his entire life._

_This young man soon had seen his own mistake and has left the dark side, given his service to Albus Dumbledore to act as a spy for the light, but nevertheless the members of said order that fought against the dark, only has met him with mistrust, suspicion, has seen him as a deception and a disgrace, and has shown their hatred towards the young man who endured all those without complaining once and this reporter only can guess that those actions has made the young man even more reserved, private and hard, dark and cold, always displaying as much indifference as possible._

_But this reporter has witnessed it first hand how kind and gentle this dark and cold but honourable man actually can be underneath his hard shell he keeps up as a protective wall around himself._

_She has seen it with her own eyes and heard the tale with her own ears about how Harry Potter has been found by the Potions Master, badly injured, scarred and nearly starved to death and how the Potions Master has tended to this child's hurts and needs, physical as well as mental ones. She has spoken with witnesses who has told her how the Professor taught this mute child how to use sign language, how to write and how this dark man could hold this crying child in order to calm and comfort his wounded and scarred soul and heart, protecting him from further hurt._

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Severus didn't understand what was going on. No one had explained anything to him when Lucius had exited the courtroom, definitely angry beyond anything he could handle, otherwise he would have turned and gazed back to look over the Wizengamot and Fudge once more before leaving. Or he would have looked at him at least.

And then the owls had arrived, delivering howler over howler to the minister, even now hovering outside the high windows, demanding entrance. Well, and now the ministry junior had delivered the Daily Prophet to Fudge, Bones, Harvest, the ministry lawyer and the clerk. He noticed that Fudge had been pleased at first and now seethed with anger while Harvest at first had seemed angry and now looked relieved. Bones kept a neutral face while the clerk and the lawyer rather looked puzzled and curious.

He would do a lot if someone just would inform him of what was going on, if he would be able to get a hand on the paper and his patience nearly threatened to get the upper hand. Yet – he knew that he should keep silent and simply – wait. Something that really didn't bode well with him right now.

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Irvin Miller frowned while reading the paper.

He of course had known that Snape had tried to adopt Potter. And from what he had gathered from Malfoy's speech, Potter had been abused by his relatives. And from the howlers that had reached Fudge, the wizarding community blamed Fudge, at least partially, for this.

But honestly he had not known that Snape had acted as a spy to the light. And – well, upon reading this article, he shook his head, sighing defeated. Whoever had written this article, had done a really very good job. He would not be able to fight against those words, not if he wished to be safe from the publicity.

For a moment he looked down at the end of the article to read the name and yes - it really had been Rita Skeeter who had written this article. And yes, she really had done a very good job. There even was a picture there, a picture that was kind of - as if drawn into a slight mist and thus proving it had been taken from a memory. It showed the Potions Master sitting on the floor and holding a sobbing Harry Potter in his arms, running his left hand over the child's back in an attempt to calm the upset child. Yes, he really would lose his head to the publicity if he tried to continue getting Snape arrested and keep him from adopting Potter. He already had lost.

_Many witches and wizards now might ask, had our Potions Master simply played a role in order to get guardianship over our young Harry Potter so he could harm said boy?_

_This reporter thinks not. There is no doubt in this reporter's mind and heart that the Boy Who Lived was deeply troubled and upset after witnessing his teacher's arrest as she has found the boy in the Potions Master's quarters but not in his nursery but sitting on the cold and hard stone floor in front of the floo through which the Professor had been whisked away by the aurors, a blanket wrapped around his thin shoulders, placed there by the deputy headmistress who currently is watching the child. This boy had been deeply troubled and shocked to his core, not registering anything that happened around him while he had eyes only for the fireplace, waiting for his soon to be father to come back while still, after hours, tears were rolling over a much too pale face._

_While at this very moment the Wizengamot has to decide the sentence, we only can await their words with baited breath in hopes that this brave man will be cleared of all charges so he soon may return to his child to comfort the boy and bring him back to life and we only can pledge for the judges to speak with their hearts and in not only the man's interests but for the child's needs as well. This reporter openly pledges for the Wizengamot to release Professor Snape as soon as possible._

_Read more on the circumstances the Boy Who Lived had been found in on page 2. Learn how the child's relatives had been arrested and about their reaction on page 3. Hear the exclusive interview with Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress and Head of Gryffindor house about what had happened since Harry Potter has come to the wizarding school on page 4. See how far this child has come since being entrusted in Professor Snape's care on page 5. And finally learn about the Professor's ways of teaching, being a strict and harsh teacher but never once losing a student while teaching a potential dangerous subject such as potions on page 6._

_This reporter says thank you to the witnesses for sharing their information and to the readers of this honourable paper for reading this reporter's article with loyalty and understanding._

_Rita Skeeter_

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_How will Severus react to the article?_

_And will he be cleared of all charges again? Will he be able to finally adopt Harry?_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you


	35. the chaos won't stop

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

I only can hope you will forgive me that this time you will get only a short chapter … but as it is, there are three nights during which I have not been able to write anything as I have been on vacation – sort of …

and honestly, I promise, I have worked as quickly and as good as possible to get the chapter finished in time, but three missing nights for writing, they do not go missed unnoticed …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_This reporter says thank you to the witnesses for sharing their information and to the readers of this honorable paper for reading this reporter's article with loyalty and understanding._

_Rita Skeeter_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter thirty-five**

**The chaos won't stop**

Severus still was sitting on the chair in courtroom ten at the ministry of magic and still no one had informed him as to _what _exactly was going on, much to his annoyance. Not to mention that the metal bands that held him to the chair annoyed him to no end too. If no one would be going to do something to inform him soon, then he simply would explode and damage this room, beyond the point where it could be repaired, he was sure of this and honestly, who ever said that accidental magic couldn't happen to adults too after all? And by the look into the faces around him, he just wanted his hands on this article in the paper they were reading.

There was no one besides of Skeeter who would be able to cause such an uproar as just now was displayed in front of him to watch like a badly written act in a theatre.

Not only had Lucius surprised him with his words. No, he also had disregarded the court in speaking without being addressed and then leaving in seething anger as it seemed. Nothing that was quite like Lucius who normally was a rather reserved man, never dropping his indifferent mask.

Then all the howlers had arrived, blaming Fudge and defending _him_, a former Death Eater until the ministry officials had come to life and finally managed to close the windows, nearly hurting some of the owls that still were gaining entrance in the process. And last but not least a ministry junior had entered, rather out of breath, and had delivered the Daily Prophet to Fudge, Bones, the ministry lawyer, Harvest and the clerk.

Miller and the clerk looked only curious while Fudge trembled in rage, his face a mixture of being pale and red. Harvest and Bones however looked rather pleased and satisfied. So – he thought the article actually might be written to his favour.

If he just could get his hands on this paper and read by himself what in Merlin's name that wretched Skeeter woman had fabricated so the entire wizarding world was in an uproar to a point where even the court was …

Again the double winged door to the courtroom opened, from the outside, and turning his head Severus frowned at Lucius Malfoy who re-entered the courtroom, closely followed by – Severus blinked in confusion – Filius. The small man actually had to run in order to keep up with Lucius' long strides but nevertheless he waved his hand at him happily, when he hurried up the aisle.

What in Merlin's name was going on _now_?

Couldn't anyone finally inform him of anything that was going on to cause such a racket?

It was frustrating! And it was annoying! And it was …

"I bid my apologies." Lucius stiffly addressed the Wizengamot. "But this small man here forced me to show him into this curt in order he can give his testimony."

Severus nearly laughed at Lucius' words. Yes, he actually nearly laughed, what was prove enough that he was about to go crazy with all this chaos at the moment. Filius Flitwick, forcing Lucius Malfoy to show him to courtroom ten.

"Professor Flitwick." Lucius said, addressing the charms teacher and extending his hand towards the court, inviting the smaller teacher to speak up, again ignoring to respect the court itself.

"Yes, yes, of course." Flitwick said in his squeaky voice. "I heard about Professor Snape's arrest only this morning and I simply had to get here to give my testimony in form of some memories. I beg your pardon, Professor Snape to break into your laboratory, but I desperately needed one of your vials for this. Well, however, as I was about to say, Professor Snape is an honorable man who is about to do all in order to help young Mr. Potter. Honestly, this poor boy wouldn't even being able to attend Hogwarts if it were not for the Professor and …"

"Those memories, Professor." Amelia Bones said, extending her hand towards the smaller man, knowing that the charms teacher would continue speaking for hours when he was excited like he was right now if she did not interrupt.

"Ah, well, yes." Flitwick squeaked and reached the vial to the woman beside Fudge who blinked in near shock at him. "Of course, yes, yes, the memories. Here you go, Madam Bones. I only extended them from myself half an hour ago and …"

"Thank you, Professor." Bones interrupted again. "I am sure we can look at them right now so we can get Professor Snape cleared as soon as possible. This – _farce_ –" She looked over at Fudge with a dark scowl on her face, "should never have been started in the first place. If you would, please, Mr. Adams?" She addressed a young man sitting beside the clerk who immediately got up and took a pensive from under his desk, placed it in the middle of the judges' desk.

Bones, Fudge, Miller, Harvest and the clerk entered the pensive a moment later to watch the memories the charms professor had brought and again Severus wanted nothing more than to know what memories Flitwick had given away that could prove his innocence.

What a crazy day this was, he thought and he wished nothing more at the moment than that he would be able to run his hand over his face. So he just leaned his head back against the backrest of the chair and closed his eyes, searching peace and silence for a moment in his own mind to calm himself.

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Amelia Bones lowered her wand at the pensive and thus she was the first one who entered the memory, followed by Miller and Fudge, and finally by Harvest and Andrew, the clerk who had his quill and parchment out to write down what they saw.

_They stood in Snape's office at Hogwarts as it seemed, Snape sitting behind his desk while Flitwick was sitting on the chair opposite the Potions Master._

_"I am sure you will understand that I cannot tell you everything as I do not wish to invade Mr. Potter's privacy." Snape at the moment said to Flitwick. "But at least I can tell you what you would learn anyway as soon as he will be able to go back to classes."_

_There was a pause during which Flitwick nodded at Snape and Snape gave a nod back to the smaller teacher._

_"Well, Mr. Potter had been abused by his relatives. Over years. And thus momentarily he is in no shape to attend his classes. Neither is he able to speak, nor is he able to write and at the present time I am about to teach him how to use sign language as well as how to use written words so he actually might be able to not only follow classes but to partake in them as well." The Memory-Snape said. _

_"Oh." Filius made casting a shocked gaze at the __potions teacher. "And how is he coping?"_

_"As Mr. Potter momentarily resides in my quarters, we have enough time to deal with his learning. But as he still is weak and easily exhausted, you surely can imagine that it is not an easy task for him. Nevertheless he does well. In learning how to use sign language as well as in learning how to write. He actually is an intelligent child and he wants to learn." The Potions Master explained in a serious voice._

_"He resides in your rooms?" Flitwick asked. "But why?"_

_"Mr. Potter has been abused, Filius." Snape seemed to growl. "And in a most cruelly way, I might add. He needs rest and he needs his freedom, he needs peace. Neither can he find in the infirmary that is not off limits for other students. And he needs someone who does not shy away from getting an abused child to cope with the situation, with things that are necessary but which he does fear. And as I am known as a cold hearted bastard, I do not shy away from such."_

_"Well, and how is he?" The smaller teacher managed to ask after a pause and Bones could tell that he could understand the man. Snape wasn't known to be kind, yet – he always seemed to get along with his Slytherins rather well from what he had heard in the past ten years. Not to mention that Elsa always spoke highly of the man when it came to her work with children._

_"As I said, he still is weak." The Potions Master said. "And he still needs proper care and potions. He tires easily and there is quite a lot of secondary damage due to the abuse that has to be minimized yet as best as possible. Physically as well as emotionally. I am sure I do not need to tell you what exactly those damages are, Filius. Suffice to say is, he is recovering, but he still is not ready to attend classes now."_

_Again there was a pause, a long one this time and Snape looked rather annoyed and tired._

_"Well, Severus." The charms professor said, looking quite uncomfortable. "I know that we do not get along very well. But, well, you really look tired. And I thought, well, maybe I could offer you any help?"_

_Snape gave a sigh away and Bones could say that he surely would be glad to accept the smaller teacher's help._

_"Thank you for your offer, Filius." Snape finally answered. "And be assured, I gladly would accept it as – yes, I am tired. An abused child is not easy to handle. What is the exact reason why I have to decline. No offence, Filius, but the boy would only fear you. You would have a full blown panic attack at hand the moment you would enter my quarters and address the boy."_

_"That bad?" The smaller teacher asked and his face showed sympathy._

_"Regrettably, yes." Severus said. "I do have Minerva to help me with the boy, as he has to redo four years of primary school during a short time so he will be able to follow classes as soon he will attend them and I surely would not manage this alone. But momentarily we are just about to get him used to her. We won't be able to get him used to a third person at the present time. It would be too much for him."_

_"So I guess he didn't attend primary school at all?" Flitwick asked, in a startled voice._

_"No, he didn't. His relatives tried to hide the abuse and thus didn't send him to school at all." Snape answered._

_"I begin to understand." Flitwick growled. "Well, Severus. My offer stands. As soon as the boy would be able to get used to another person, I am ready to help."_

_"I would be glad to take your offer at a later time." Snape answered before the memory changed._

This at least proved that Snape not only knew what he was doing with an abused child such as Potter, but that he was ready to do what had to be done as well. Snape not only had tended to Potter's needs concerning his injuries he had gained at the hands of his relatives, but Snape also had taught the boy sign language and how to write. Something she had not thought the man being able to do as there surely was a lot of patience needed.

And Snape also did not only care for the boy's physical needs but for his mental needs as well as it seemed. So all in all – she did not understand Cornelius' denial.

_This time only voices were heard._

_"May I ask you a question, Severus?" McGonagall's voice asked._

_"You already do, Minerva." Snape's voice answered._

_"You know what I mean, Severus."_

_"I do." A low chuckle was heard. "Ask your question."_

_"Would Mr. Potter be in Gryffindor instead of in Slytherin, would you act the same then? Would you then care as much as you do now?"_

_"I am sure, Minerva, would Mr. Potter be in Gryffindor, then you would have seen the signs of his abuse and you would have acted. You saw them with me."_

_"Maybe. Maybe not. I didn't see them in the first place this time. But would you have been willing then to give him your support if he were not in Slytherin? Even if he were in Gryffindor? If I had not seen the signs? Or if I had not been able to handle it?"_

_"Mr. Potter is a student at Hogwarts, Minerva. And yes, if I would see signs of abuse in any student of your house, or in a student of any other house, then I would have acted in the very same way. I would have to be more carefully and I would have to take extra care so I would not give away my position as a spy to some of the Death Eater children. But I would care as much as I do now. I might not be a kind man, nor might I be a friend of your Gryffindors, but I not only am a teacher. I detest child abuse. Abuse in general. But there is nothing worse existent in this world than to mistreat a child that is helpless."_

_"Thank you, Severus."_

Again she cast a long look at the minister, her face dark.

She had known that Snape had been a spy for years and Cornelius had known this little fact too. She had not needed Skeeter's article to gain knowledge of this. And honestly, she did not understand what Fudge was playing at.

Of course the man did not like Snape. And of course he was obsessed with arresting each and every Death Eater. But Snape had been one for only a few weeks before he had given his service to Dumbledore as a spy. She had been a member of the order, and she had known the man as a spy.

Snape had made one mistake in his youth, as every young man did at one point. No one really was free from faults. But he had seen his mistake and he had remedied it. And he had paid deeply for it too. As a member of the order she exactly knew how dangerous and how difficult his work as a spy had been back then when You-Know-Who had been active.

_Again the memory changed and this time they were standing in Flitwick's office, McGonagall, Snape and Flitwick himself._

_"Good afternoon, Filius." Snape greeted, as did McGonagall._

_"What a surprise, Minerva, Severus. Sit down, sit down. May I offer you some tea?" Flitwick asked._

_"That would be welcomed, Filius, thank you." Snape answered and he actually seemed to smile. _

_"Thank you, yes, Filius." McGonagall too answered taking a seat while Snape remained standing._

_"We came because we have some questions about wards, Filius. Protective wards concerning a child without parents." Snape._

_"You do not happen to speak of Mr. Potter, Severus?" Flitwick._

_"In fact, I do." Snape._

_"But Mr. Potter would be safe here under the wards of Hogwarts." Flitwick. "This castle is one of the best warded places in the wizarding world. I am sure he does not need added wards."_

_"Not here, Filius." Snape._

_"I see." Flitwick. "He has to leave the castle during the summer break. Does Albus plan to send him back to his relatives?"_

_"He intended to." McGonagall spoke this time and Amelia really had to lift her eyebrow at Fudge and then at Elsa. So, Albus had known of the abuse and still wanted to send the child back to his relatives during the summer? She began to understand. "But Severus was able to prevent that."_

_"The boy had blood wards surrounding the house of his relatives." Flitwick again. "I myself have placed them on Albus' orders. But considering the fact that he has been abused there, I am sure they would not even keep a wizard's dog to enter them."_

_"That is what I told Albus." McGonagall said._

_"Where will Mr. Potter live during the summer break?" Flitwick wanted to know._

_"Prince Manor." Snape answered._

_"You will take Mr. Potter in, Severus?" Flitwick sounded surprised and Amelia couldn't help smiling. She too had been surprised when she had heard of Snape's wish to adopt Potter._

_"As to be correct, Filius, I plan to adopt Mr. Potter." The Potions Master answered and this time the charms teacher really chocked on the sip of tea he had taken._

_"You …" Flitwick blinked. "Well, then I guess there will be no problems at all. It will be quite easy."_

_"You mean the blood wards could be transferred to Prince Manor as soon as the adoption is completed and my blood is running through the boy's veins?" Snape inquired._

_"No." Flitwick. "The blood wards are useless."_

_"But Albus said …" McGonagall began but was stopped by Flitwick who shook his head._

_"The blood wards surely had done their job as long as the boy had not been abused there." He explained. "But as soon as the abuse began in this household by his relatives and on this boy, they failed. And blood wards, if failed thus, cannot be replaced. Nor transferred. They are destroyed. They are useless."_

_"I already thought so." Snape said and Amelia had to admit that she was surprised. She had not known this either._

_The memory ended there and Amelia left the pensive, followed by the rest of the group that had viewed the memories of Flitwick. _

Well, Amelia was sure that there had been more to this conversation, but maybe Flitwick had not wanted them to know what exact wards they had discussed and honestly, considering the minister and his actions right now, then she could understand that the charms teacher did not wish them to know about the correct wards.

It however proved that Snape was able to keep the boy safe.

Well, she would have known this little fact even without this memory. If there was someone who was able to keep Potter safe, then it was Snape. The man knew just too much, even if some of his knowledge bordered on dark magic. Yet – she did not really mind, as long as he did not commit a crime with the dark arts.

What he did not do.

She knew Snape, and she knew that he loved the dark arts. She knew that the dark arts came even easier to him than light spells. He had a hang for them. But she also knew that he never abused the dark arts to do crimes. And yes, she also knew that Snape had murdered, but she knew exactly when and why he had done so. She knew how many lives he had saved and how many souls he had saved from going insane, never caring about his own soul. Sometimes there simply were more evil and horrible things than death. Sometimes death was a relieve.

"I have seen enough." She finally said as soon as he had regained her seat, ignoring the minister completely. She was angry, angry beyond anything she ever had experienced, and she would take some drastic actions over the next few days. She really had heard and seen enough and she knew that Cornelius definitely had abused his powers as minister of magic. Something that couldn't be taken lightly.

"I hereby …"

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Again the double winged door opened and headmaster Albus Dumbledore marched into the courtroom, hasted up the aisle, casting a worried glance at him, Severus, at Malfoy and then at the minister. His face went dark then.

"My apologies for being late, dear minister." The headmaster said and Severus closed his eyes with a silent groan at the new interruption that meant – chaos. Why in Merlin's name had this trial to be so chaotic? Couldn't they simply be over with it? Were all the witches and wizards about to go mad over his trial? What in Merlin's name was wrong with this day?

Gritting his teeth he forced himself to concentrate on Albus' words.

"But even if I am part of this Wizengamot, no one has informed me of this trial and I only can wonder why that may be. I however have learned of this trial against one of my teachers from the Daily Prophet that arrived this morning. I am sure you can imagine _how _surprised I have been that a simple hearing has been changed into a trial in front of the Wizengamot. Without me being invited, I might add."

"Ah, Dumbledore …" Fudge began, but he was interrupted by Bones immediately.

"I am sorry about that, headmaster Dumbledore, but as it seems there are a _few_ things that actually went wrong with this particular trial." The woman said. "Nevertheless, you are too late, Professor, as I already have made my mind up."

"But you cannot …" Fudge tried to protest, but again he was halted by Bones and Severus only could close his eyes. There they were. Bones had taken over as it seemed and she had made her mind up.

He definitely had a better chance now than with Fudge, he knew, but nevertheless the accusation stood and surely Bones could not …

"As the summoning of this court has been against the wizarding laws as we have established them in the year 1771, and not to mention that the summoning of this court has been against all humanity we know of since more than a century now, I hereby stop this proceeding and again clear Professor Severus Snape of all charges."

For the first time this morning, no – for the first time since he had been arrested yesterday evening Severus breathed a sigh of relieve. It was over, at least the trial was over. And the hearing he was sure he could deal with. That would be nothing compared to this trial, he was sure. Nothing could go any more wrong and crazy than this trial right now went.

He didn't even notice the metal bands disappearing and thus releasing him.

"Furthermore." Bones continued and he really had to force himself now to concentrate onto her words. "I hereby decide that we have seen, heard and read enough to not only allow Professor Severus Snape to stay in full care of Mr. Harry James Potter, but that the Professor will be allowed to adopt said child immediately. Any further hearings in this matter will be cancelled and the papers will be signed at this moment."

Amelia Bones waved her hand into the direction of Elsa Harvest and the social worker from child welfare quickly opened a folder to get the required papers out, a bright smile on her face. She signed them, reached them over to Bones who gave her signature as well and then gave the papers back to Harvest.

Severus blinked in near shock at her, at Harvest, at Lucius, and then back at Bones.

He couldn't believe it!

The boy was his! The boy was his son now! _Harry Potter was his son now!_

He was his son and the only thing left to do was the ceremony itself that could take place within a fortnight.

"Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy has been collected from Malfoy Manor meanwhile and will be held in one of the holding cells of the ministry of magic until Mr. Lucius Malfoy has decided if it is his wish to press charges against his wife and if, then to what extend and if it is his wish to divorce."

Looking over at the aristocrat he immediately knew that Lucius not only would divorce but that he would press full charges against her too. Yet – he didn't care.

Harry was his. The boy was his. _His son!_

He was a father now! Officially and completely a father! _He, Severus Snape, was a father!_

He simply couldn't believe it.

"And finally, I hereby and as of now unseat Minister Cornelius Fudge and I will take over to represent the ministry of magic for now as Cornelius Fudge definitely has abused his power as the Minister of magic which actions cannot be taken lightly. A court will be held soon concerning this inner political matter and early elections for a new minister will be set within the next few weeks."

Well, that was something, Severus couldn't help thinking for a moment, but honestly, right now he didn't care about Fudge, inner political matters or the headmaster either. Right now he wanted to read this blasted article Skeeter had fabricated and that had gotten the entire wizarding world upset, and then he wanted to go home and have a look at the boy.

_At his son!_

Yes, maybe better the other way round, first going home to have a look at Harry who – and he was sure of this – had neither been sleeping nor eating anything since his arrest, and then having a look at the paper. On the other hand, if he had a look at the paper first, then – oh, for Merlin's pants!

He just wanted to go home and convince the boy that everything was alright.

"This court is hereby closed." Bones stated and stood to leave the courtroom, followed by several members of the Wizengamot. Fudge sat in his chair, dumbfounded and shocked, while Albus, Lucius and Filius hasted towards him, Albus and Filius jumbling over their own words, both at the same time and Lucius standing aside, calmly smirking at him.

Shaking his head at the two professors he inclined his head towards Filius to thank the small teacher for whatever he had done, before he cast an inquisitive look at the headmaster. He would deal with Albus later. He simply had not the time to do so right now. His eyes fell on Lucius and he inclined his head towards the man too. He never would have thought to have Lucius' assistance with these matters and again he wondered for a moment what had made the man giving his support right now towards him.

Lucius simply stood there, inclining his head towards him also, to indicate he had acknowledged the silent gratitude just when Elsa Harvest reached him and handed him the adoption papers.

"There you go, Professor." She said, excitement in her voice and a large smile on her face. "You are a father now."

"Thank you, Miss Harvest." Severus said, not sure how he even was able to get the words out. His chest rather felt like it might explode at any moment, or implode. It wasn't really important which way round. He simply was sure he would die of a heart attack right here and now. "Thank you, but I am sure you can understand that I do want to heed back home to have a look at – at my son." He added, testing the words on his tongue and he immediately knew that they felt right.

"Of course, Professor." She said, shoving him to a side entrance. "If you go this way, then you will be able to avoid annoying questions from the press and you can use the floo in my office. I just suggest you do not floo directly to your chambers as you only would stumble over your son who is sitting in front of your fireplace."

Turning sharply Severus gazed at the woman from child welfare with a piercing gaze, worry creeping up in his chest immediately at her words and he simply gave a short nod, hasting towards the small door that was attached to courtroom ten which he hopefully never ever would see from the inside again.

He would heed home, as quickly as possible and he would deal with the boy, with his son, get him to eat something and get him to sleep. Nothing else was important right now.

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Minerva meanwhile was at the end of her rope and restlessly she paced Severus' quarters.

Filius actually had gotten Mr. Potter to sleep, and he had placed a silencing spell at the boy. But that had not been helping for longer than an hour until the boy had woken from a nightmare. Honestly, a silencing spell only worked for things coming from the outside, but not from those who worked from within. And the nightmare surely had been horrifying as she simply had not been able to calm the boy in any ways she could think of.

She even had tried to give him a calming potion that was knocked out of her hand by the boy's flailing arms as soon as she had tried to give it to him. She even had called Poppy over who just had been as helpless as she herself. Poppy had suggested that she could knock the boy out with a spell instead with a potion, but she had told her that this spell would not keep him from having nightmares and that the boy only would be captive in his nightmares then.

So they had decided that this surely was not what they needed right now.

Well, the only effective aid had come from Zilly, about an hour ago.

She had called upon the house elf, asking the small creature to bring a cup of hot chocolate in the hope that maybe this would help the boy out of his stupor, out of his panic, out of whatever it was the boy was in. And the moment the house elf had seen the child sitting there, had cast a questioning look at her, Minerva, and she had told him that his master had been arrested the evening before, Zilly had understood, had shaken his head and simply had seated himself beside the boy, murmuring something about a cup of hot chocolate not helping with this right now, murmuring something about a cup of hot chocolate not helping with everything.

And right now Zilly still was sitting beside the boy, holding the child in his small arms and Minerva only could hope that at least the little creature would get through to the child, eventually, while she listened to the small creature's silent whispers.

"Me's been watching over master Snape when Master Snape was young." The little elf at the moment whispered. "Master Snape too has been miserable often and me's been watching over him just like me's been doing for yous now, Master Harry. Master Harry does not have to worry so. Master Snape always came around and me's sure that Master Snape will now too …"

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Lucius Malfoy cast a long and tired look at the door of the holding cell in the ministry dungeons, sighing heavily, while the auror that had accompanied him down here opened the door and after a moment of hesitance he finally entered, his steps heavily and slow. He actually had to force himself to keep his shoulders straight and he gritted his teeth when the door behind him closed and he turned to the side to look at Narcissa.

He hadn't had the time to talk to her earlier, between finding out what she had done and then taking her to the Malfoy holding cell and heading towards the office of the Daily Prophet to have a little chat with Miss Skeeter. After what Narcissa had done, it had been more important to him to get Severus off the court and to get Severus allowed adopting the boy.

But now that was done. Skeeter had written an article he had been satisfied with, and he still had been in time for the trial. But right now, now that all the strain was over, now he felt the betrayal from Narcissa with just the more force than before while his mind had been occupied.

He leaned against the small table that stood in one corner and watched his wife who sat on the small and thin cot, looking at him as if he was about to wrong her. But he knew better. He had not only found the spell she had used to copy his handwriting and he had not only seen her writing letters, using this spell, he also had found polyjuice potion in her private chambers, already prepared to use to act like him. She had betrayed him knowingly and deliberately.

"Why, Narcissa?" He simply asked, his voice silent, barely more than a whisper, while he folded his arms over his chest to hide the pain he felt at the betrayal of his wife. He had loved her. He still loved her. He had not only married her because she had been a pure blood and a black at that. He had not only married her out of politics. He had married her because he had loved her.

And what she had done did not only confuse him, it had hurt him, deeply.

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Severus was rushing along the corridors, down into the dungeons, and with each step he took towards his private chambers the dread he felt increased. Surely the boy would be alright. _His son_ simply _had_ to be alright.

He wondered for a moment how the boy so quickly had become his son in his mind, how he had been able to accept this little fact so quickly, how he could feel so worried over the boy so soon and so deeply. How was the boy doing this? Changing him so quickly and so completely? How had he managed to worm his way into his heart so soon and so totally? What kind of magic had the boy woven over him?

He had no answers to those questions, but honestly, he didn't mind.

The boy was his now, his son, and nothing else mattered.

Reaching the door to his chambers he just in time reminded himself to open the door slowly and silently. If Miss Harvest was right, then the boy still was sitting in front of the fireplace and he only would startle him if he threw the door open with the force he felt right now.

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Harry and Severus have to get used to being father and son_

_And what will Lucius do with Narcissa?_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you


	36. the Daily Prophet

**Disclaimer:**

öhm ... like before ... I do not own anything here ... just borrowing them ... and causing a bit of confusion at Hogwarts

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

I do know that some of you will tear me apart for this chapter, but honestly, if you do, I won't be able to continue writing and you won't know what will come next with Harry and Severus … but I just _had_ to write this one … I just was itching to do so, I couldn't help it … so – I hope you won't skin me for it … as there are still a few chapters left to get this year completed …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_This reporter says thank you to the witnesses for sharing their information and to the readers of this honorable paper for reading this reporter's article with loyalty and understanding._

_Rita Skeeter_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter thirty-six**

**The Daily Prophet**

_Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, a magical school__, has been built by the four founders Godoric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin, the four greatest witches and wizards of their time. The correct date of when exactly this school had been opened is uncertain but this reporter has learned, and is now able to inform you, that it had happened over a thousand years ago._

_Those four witches and wizards had __build this greatest of the magical schools worldwide, so young witches and wizards could study in quiet and peace and so they could be educated to become fully trained witches and wizards one day who would add knowledge and strength to the wizarding world and of whom the wizarding community could be proud of as they ensured its survival. Each of the 'Hogwarts four' as they were commonly named, the four founders had established houses into this school and had taken a group of students to teach them not only their magical skills but their own believes and knowledge._

Hermione Granger's eyes were glued to the Daily Prophet she was holding in her hands, reading the article aloud, while Ronald Weasley was sitting beside her, rather bored and annoyed at his friend's reading. He rather would like to discuss the rumors he had heard earlier, rumors about Snape being arrested by aurors yesterday evening. If it were true, then maybe he would not have to deal ever again with the evil dungeon bat.

He imagined potions being taught by Dumbledore. The man had taken over the classes above first year after all since the beginning of this school year and only recently Snape had started to take back the NEWT classes. It surely would be much more pleasant with Dumbledore than with Snape. And honestly, as dark and as cold as Snape was, he easily could imagine him being arrested because he was a Death Eater as many of the other Gryffindors gossiped.

_Godoric Gryffindor expressed to his students how important bravery was, and so he taught them how to duel as he himself had been a great dueler. He also had been great in his wand-work concerning transfiguration and most of the students he had taken in had been masters in those subjects as well._

_The sword of Gryffindor is known by the entire wizarding world even to our present time and again symbolizes the bravery that had been so important to Godoric Gryffindor.__ He had taken a lion as the symbol for his house and thus reminding the students at the bravery a lion displays._

"I've seen this sword!" He exclaimed when Hermione read that part. "It's in Dumbledore's office. Mum took me with her once when she'd been called to him because of Fred and George."

"Well, Professor Dumbledore had been a Gryffindor, they say." Hermione said. "So, of course the sword is in his office."

"Dunno." Ron answered. "Charley told me that the sword always had been in the headmaster's office. Maybe Godoric Gryffindor had been the headmaster too."

"I don't believe so." The girl shook her head. "It rather sounds as if Hogwarts did not have a headmaster at all back then. I think that the four founders had been working together hand in hand and that they all had been equals."

"A Slytherin and a Gryffindor? Equals?" Ron shuddered. "That's impossible."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, little brother." George Weasley said from behind, leaning his lower arms onto Ron's shoulders.

"I see you're reading the article 'bout Snape." Fred glanced over Hermione's shoulder at the Daily Prophet she was reading.

"Just continue." George said. "I'm sure you'll be surprised."

Shaking her head Hermione huffed.

"I would." She said. "If I weren't interrupted by you three. Honestly, have red hair something to do with …"

"You better don't say it, Hermione …" Fred threatened, his eyebrow raised at the first year.

"Or it could be that you find your pumpkin juice …"

"Lazed with an unknown potion by tomorrow morning …"

"Just go on reading, Granger …"

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_The tragedy had become known at the beginning of September, when one of our most famous wizards, young __Mr. Harry Potter, has come to Hogwarts and has been sorted into the house of Slytherin. It had been a surprise to the majority of the wizarding community, seeing a Potter not in Gryffindor but in the house that was known as a dark house since decades._

_Yet, each witch and wizard who has read this reporter's article on the front page of this honorable paper, meanwhile might doubt those prejudice. The house of Salazar Slytherin is not only a respectable house as much as Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, but it has brought forth its own kind witches and wizards such as Bryn Weasley and Cathryn McGonagall who's both families had been Gryffindors over centuries. Brian Wilkins, former head of department of child welfare before Elsa Harvest had taken over the post and Philip Esteban who had invented before mentioned department into the ministry of magic back in 1914. They had been Slytherins, as well as Horace Slughorn former head of Slytherin and Amelia Bones, Head of department of magical law enforcement. Not to mention of Poppy Pomfrey, the matron at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, who is a very kind and caring witch. As is – and this reporter is sure that the wizarding community will agree here after reading the front page article of this paper – Severus Snape, head of Slytherin house at Hogwarts who might not be kind due to the dangerous subject he is teaching, but who definitely is caring._

_And thus, this reporter is sure, that Harry Potter has been sorted into the only house where he can find assistance, understanding and __accepting after the abuse he had had to endure at the hands of his relatives, Petunia and Vernon Dursley who both had been arrested two weeks ago._

_This reporter has visited the boy's aunt and uncle who currently are under arrest in one of the ministry holding cells until their trial in front of the Wizengamot._

Draco Malfoy looked at Theodore Nott sitting beside him and Blaze Zabini, standing on his other side, leaning his arms onto the table in front of them.

"Skeeter has visited the Dursleys?" He shook his head. "How did she manage this? No one is allowed in the holding cells."

"Sure?" Theodore asked.

"Yes, dad told me once." Draco answered. "Only the lawyers are allowed in there. At least until the trials are over."

"But why?" Blaze wanted to know, at a loss as much as Theodore.

"Well, so nothing can happen to the prisoners before the trial." Draco said, trying to remember his father's correct words but failing. "For example, so no one can use magic on them to get them out or to kill them. Something like that."

"Oh." Theodore made. "Sounds reasonable."

"Yeah." Blaze nodded. "But how did she get in then?"

"I don't know." Draco shook his head, gazing over at the head table, worrying about his godfather who right now was sitting in such a cell too.

"He will be fine, Draco." Marcus Flint silently said from behind.

He had seen the young Malfoy's gazes he threw towards the head table every now and then, and thus he had walked over to the first year to ensure him that everything would be fine in the end. Something he had done the entire morning now, since it had become known that Professor Snape had been arrested last night. And not only the lower years were worried. The upper years as well had to be reassured by him and he only could hope that the Professor would be back soon.

"How do you know?" Draco asked, his eyes red and he could see that the boy had been crying earlier. Well, he was not just one of Snape's students, he was his godson too.

"He always managed, Draco." Leaning closer a bit he placed a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "Do you really think that's the first time Severus is in trouble?" He whispered into Draco's ears so the rest of the students couldn't hear him. A lot of the Slytherins, mostly those from upper classes, used the Professor's given name, even in front of him, but only if they were in privacy. They never would do so in front of the younger students who had not gained permission from the professor doing so.

"Go on reading." He then said louder, trying to distract the first year. "This sounds rather interesting."

_**Daily Prophet**__**:**__ You have been arrested for abusing your nephew Harry Potter. Can you tell our readers how it had come that young Mr. Potter was living in your household?_

_**Petunia Dursley:**__ We have done nothing to the freak that he had not coming! It's all his fault! My sister has been killed because of him, as had this good for nothing husband of hers! And we have been ended up with their freakish son on our doorsteps!_

_**Daily Prophet:**__ You actually have found Mr. Potter on your doorstep then? _

_**Petunia Dursley:**__ Of course I have! Imagine! I opened the door on this morning to get the milk bottles to prepare breakfast for my Dudders, and found the freak lying on my doorstep in a blanket!_

_**Daily Prophet:**__ How old has the boy been back then?_

_**Petunia Dursley:**__ Where from should I know? A year and a few weeks, I guess. _

_**Daily Prophet:**__ But you must have been overjoyed, having such a cute baby lying on your doorstep. Surely you have seen the good in it, having a young friend for your own son in your house?_

_**Petunia Dursley:**__ Are you mad, woman? Our Dudders had had to sacrifice everything since the freak had been in our house. We'd had to feed Potter with the food out of our own son's mouth and he had stolen our son's clothes! Even his mommy and daddy our Dudders suddenly had had to share with someone else! _

_**Daily Prophet:**__ But you have been given a monthly salary from the ministry of magic for the boy. And from other sources this reporter heard it was a more than just appropriate sum you got._

_**Petunia Dursley:**__ The money we got for the freak in one month wasn't even enough to feed him for a week! It was a few pounds and nothing more! Imagine, food, and clothes, and doctor visits and school supplies, not to mention toys and furniture!_

_**Daily Prophet:**__ This reporter has been informed that your nephew has been living in a cupboard, sleeping on an old and thin mattress and wore the old clothes that did not fit your son anymore. _

_**Petunia Dursley:**__ We simply didn't have a spare room and it has been our Dudder's old mattress and clothes. But we had to pay for those nevertheless as we had to buy those things in the first place._

_**Daily Prophet:**__ Yes, but you had not bought those for Mr. Potter for whom the money had been, but for your son._

_**Petunia Dursley:**__ You think that we could afford to spend the bit of money we got and that not even was enough to feed him on new clothes and such?_

_**Daily Prophet:**__ That is what the ministry salary had been for._

"Are all muggles like this?" Draco asked, casting an angry look at Marcus.

"No." Marcus answered. "Not all are like this. I guess most of them are quite ok, like the witches and wizards. But everywhere you can find such monsters as the Dursleys, even here in the wizarding world."

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_Helga Hufflepuff had been a great witch when it had come to charms and it had been important to her to show kindness and sympathy towards others as she herself had been a kind witch. She had been the one who had brought all sorts of different people together and she had been the one who had brought the first house elves to Hogwarts. Not to enslave them however, but to give them a refuge and they were treated more kindly there than elsewhere._

_This witch had been great with herbs, plants and all things that grew and mostly her students were skilled in handling those herbs and plants too. She always had had her own cup to drink her tea from, a golden cup with the emblem of a badger and thus, as the device for her house she had chosen mentioned badger. _

Hermione cast a short glance towards the Hufflepuff table, noticing that most of them too were reading the Daily Prophet, noticing that they too cast curious glances towards the Gryffindor table, or towards the Ravenclaw or the Slytherin table. As did the Ravenclaws and the Slytherins. Yet – the Slytherins were more quiet. They always were quiet, yes, but right now they were even more silent and many of them looked pale and miserable.

Well, their head of house had been arrested last night. Of course they were miserable.

For a moment she imagined Professor McGonagall being arrested and her gaze went towards the head table.

Professor McGonagall still was not here yet. She always attended meals in the great hall. But she had not been here last night during dinner and she wasn't here during breakfast either. Maybe that had to do with Professor Snape's arrest? Had she too been arrested? Sighing and shaking her head she went back to the newspaper. McGonagall surely had not been arrested.

_The fair lady from Ravenclaw__, as she had been called, Rowena Ravenclaw, her skills had been not only intelligence, a proof of which are the ever changing stairs and floors of Hogwarts, but charms as well and her wand-work in this area she had handed down to the students she had taken into her house._

_She always had been wearing a diadem, a blue shimmering one that promised intelligence to its wearer, and thus her house colors had been blue and bronze, while she had chosen an eagle as the device of her house for this animal's intelligence. The fair Lady Rowena Ravenclaw had had a daughter, Helga Ravenclaw. Not much is known about this young Lady however and not even this reporter, that normally is more resourceful, had been able to find out further news than that the young girl had left Hogwarts eventually._

"Honestly, there's nothing that is new." She frowned. "You can read all of this in 'Hogwarts, a history'."

"Not exactly." Fred shook his head. "You wouldn't find information on Helga Ravenclaw in 'Hogwarts, a history'."

"You read the book?" She asked, gazing at Fred with nearly shocked eyes.

"Of course, dear Hermione." George answered instead of Fred.

"Just because our little brother fears books …"

"Because he thinks they might bite …"

"Doesn't mean we do not read either …"

"And there's more …"

"Just read …"

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_Harry James Potter, a child that had been abused since his earliest childhood, had come to Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry on September the first and __he had been sorted into the house of Slytherin._

_This mute boy had not been able to write or to use sign language, nor had he been able to communicate in any other way and it had been clear that this child had been gone through too much evil in his short years. This reporter had seen the boy with her own eyes and not only is he a very small boy for his age, sick and thin, but he also is jumpy and scared beyond what could be considered as normal._

_It had been his head of house, Professor Severus Snape, who soon had recognized the signs of abuse and who had taken the boy to Madam Poppy Pomfrey, the school matron, for a medical check up. Together the Slytherin head of house and the school nurse had tended to this child's injuries, working the entire night and neither of them had been sure if the boy would survive in the first place._

_Now, weeks later however, __this boy is able to communicate after he had learned how to write and after he had learned how to use sign language. _

_He also has gotten private lessons in everything that he has missed back with his relatives, not being allowed to attend primary school as his relatives had tried to hide the boy and their abuse on him from the world, from the muggle world as well as from the wizarding world, and according to Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick, who are some of the teachers he gets private lessons from, Mr. Potter is a student that absorbs knowledge like a sponge absorbs water._

_This however, is not all our savior has learned. _

_Yes, our savior._

_This boy had defeated He Who Must Not Be Named, he had lost his parents during the same night, and the sacrifice he had made back then, had been terrible, being placed with his abusive relatives. But no one had cared. This boy had freed the wizarding world from an evil wizard, but no one had ensured that the same boy would be happy and healthy after that. As if the wizarding world had abandoned the boy after he had done a great favor to all the witches and wizards who had been hunted and terrorized by You Know Who._

_Our savior had been suffering for years for freeing our world. _

_What is the reason as to why it is such a great success this same boy had gained during the past weeks since he lives at Hogwarts and in care of his head of house._

_Mr. Harry James Potter has not only gained knowledge concerning his subjects he soon will have to attend. No, this marked and poor child had had to learn how to eat, how to sleep and most importantly how to trust the people around him._

_Of course this young man will never really trust, this ability being destroyed by his relatives, but he has learned to trust one man at least, to trust him enough to allow this man to take care of him and to teach him, to even adopt him. And this man is no other one than Severus Snape, head of Slytherin and Potions Professor at Hogwarts. _

"Potter? Mute?" Terry Boot at the Ravenclaw table asked stunned.

"Snape?" Michael Corner shook his head, ignoring his classmate's question. "Adopting Potter?"

"Potter has been abused?" Cho Chang whispered, blinking in near shock at the paper and then at Padma Patil. "The poor boy."

"Weasley had mentioned something." Rodger Davis came over from the fourth year side of the Ravenclaw table. "One of the twins, dunno which one, I never could tell them apart. That Snape had guardianship over Potter and might adopt him."

"Poor Potter." Cederic Diggory from Hufflepuff who had been sitting with Rodger Davis shook his head. "Snape of all people!"

"Yeah!"

"So, that's why he isn't in classes." Terry Boot said. "He gets private lessons."

"Hey, he hadn't attended primary school and he hadn't been able to write." Michael Corner grinned. "I wonder if he is slow or something."

"Don't be mean, Michael!" Padma said, shaking her head at the boy. "Did you read the article about his muggle relatives?"

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_The fourth of the founders, Salazar Slytherin, has been a great Potions Master and he had been a wizard who approached things the more '__slytherin way' people nowadays say. It simply means he has been thinking things through before acting rashly, had wormed information out of his opponents first by using his intelligence instead of curiosity and he had been more successful than other witches and wizards by acting slyly. _

_Other skills Slytherin had shown had been parseltongue and legillimens. Parseltongue he however never taught his students as it simply could not be taught. It only could be inherited by blood. He wore a silver locket decorated with his ornate S for Salazar Slytherin around his neck. The symbol for his house, he had chosen a snake for his preference of slyness and his house colors are still silver and green._

"Uargh …" Ron made, giving a groan away. "Imagine Slytherin as a teacher. I bet he'd be much worse than even Snape can be."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ronnikins." Fred teased.

"Ok, you're right." Ron sighed. "Maybe not even _he _could have been worse than _Snape_."

"Don't be stupid, Ron!" George hit Ron on the back of his head. "Just because he had been a Potions Master too, doesn't mean anything."

"But continue reading. There's an explanation that is quite interesting!"

Hermione frowned at the twins. Those two were definitely intelligent, she knew, and their potions work was great, she knew that too. So – if they thought that there might be an interesting explanation to something, then she could be sure that they were right.

Thus, she continued.

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_**Daily Prophet:** You say, your nephew had gotten nothing he had not coming. What exactly is it the boy did that would warrant beatings such as you gave him, and neglect to a point where a child is nearly starved to death?_

_**Petunia Dursley:** He always hurt our Dudders! And he always was disrespectful and lazy, always wanting more to eat and more blankets! He never was satisfied with what he had._

_**Daily Prophet:** Is it true that you hate magic?_

_**Petunia Dursley:** Of course I do, as do every other normal people! Magic! It is a freakish thing and each of you witches and wizards think that you are better than we are, just because you can do magic! I have seen it with my sister whenever she came back from Hogwarts during the holidays and I have seen it with Potter how always tried to get out of his punishments with his freakish magic!_

_**Daily Prophet:** It is accidental magic children use to protect themselves. When did you first notice such accidental magic, Mrs. Dursley?_

_**Petunia Dursley:** What do I know? Maybe he was two?_

_**Daily Prophet:** That is quite a young age to display the first accidental magic and it proves that the abuse had started very soon._

Who could beat a two year old child? Daphne Greengrass wondered, shaking her head and casting unsure gazes at her classmates, not sure if she could dare to ask her thoughts aloud as the others did.

Professor Snape had given her this appointment, weeks ago, shortly after their first Saturday's meetings and he had addressed her with her not so pleasant home life without hesitation. Abuse he had called it.

But honestly, it wasn't like that! And she had told him so. But he had not believed her, had even taken her to the infirmary and now she had to meet with him once a week. She didn't like it, didn't want to talk about her family, and she feared that he might find out more one day. Not that there was something to find out, but honestly … and compared to Potter, well …

_This reporter has tried to talk to young Mr. Potter's uncle as well, but the only words this man had shouted at her in his blind hate had been words this reporter refuses to repeat here as they are too horrible and surely not appropriate for the eyes of underage readers who might read this respectable paper right now._

_But __hear the exclusive interview with Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress and Head of Gryffindor house about what had happened since Harry Potter has come to the wizarding school on page 4. See how far this child has come since being entrusted in Professor Snape's care on page 5. And finally learn about the Professor's ways of teaching, being a strict and harsh teacher but never once losing a student while teaching a potential dangerous subject such as potions on page 6._

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_T__he loyal readers of this renowned paper now might frown as most of those informations are already known and can be read in 'Hogwarts, a history', a book that is probably the most favored one of the wizarding students. This resourceful reporter however will not disappoint her faithful readers here with the article she wrote as she has found more important information and only wished to refresh old knowledge._

_Up until now, __still, the subjects transfiguration, herbology, charms and potions are taught – aside from other classes of course – by the heads of houses and up to now the houses are still the way they had been a thousand years ago when the four founders had installed them into the most legendary school of the entire wizarding world._

_And thus – potions is taught since the first days Hogwarts had been opened by the 'Hogwarts four'._

_This reporter however can now tell, that in all the Hogwarts history, there only had been two potions teachers who never had lost a student to the dangerous subject they were teaching._

_One of them had been Salazar Slytherin himself._

_Some of this honorable paper's readers now might think that Salazar Slytherin never had lost a student in his potions classes as he had left Hogwarts due to an argument with Godoric Gryffindor as history taught us. The truth this reporter had been able to find out now however is that Salazar Slytherin never had left Hogwarts. _

_Salazar Slytherin had been the oldest of the four founders and due to numerous potions accidents he had prevented and saved __each of his students from, he had fallen ill with time. This first Potions Master had continued his teaching nevertheless and due to his illness for a few more years, but this reporter has learned that he had taken less and less students each year until this great man had been too unwell and had retired into his private chambers._

_Those chambers, known as 'the chamber of secrets' __nowadays, are sealed and heavily warded. Rumors say that only the true hair of Slytherin will be able to reopen them._

_They indeed had been reopened, however, about fifty years ago, as some of this paper's readers might remember. _

_Back then rumors had been spread that the half-giant Hagrid, who now works as gamekeeper on the grounds of Hogwarts, had been the one responsible for the opening of the chamber, for releasing the chamber's supposed monster, and thus for the death of a student. The young Hagrid's wand had been snapped in half by the ministry of magic and he had been expelled from the school, begging Dumbledore to keep him as gamekeeper on the school grounds as he had no other place to go._

_This reporter however does not believe those rumors._

_The 'chamber of secrets' had been reopened about fifty years ago and this reporter can only suggest __to think about the fact that from 1936 to 1943 a young wizard named Tom Marvolo Riddle has attended Hogwarts. A young wizard who is known as He Who Must Not Be Named. _

_And this reporter truly believes that Salazar Slytherin had not kept a monster in his private chambers, apart from the fact that this supposed monster hardly would have been able to survive a thousand years, but that before mentioned young wizard had brought said monster into this school to inflict fear and terror upon the witches and wizards just as he had done in later years when he had become the dark wizard that is known as You Know Who._

"You fink fas rue?" Ron asked, and Hermione as well as the twins were looking at him with disgust on their faces.

"Didn't your mother teach Ron any manners?" The girl asked Fred who meanwhile was sitting beside her on the bench.

"Well, she tried." Fred answered, shaking his head.

"But really, Ron's a lost cause when it comes to manners." George added.

"What was it you asked however?" Hermione went back towards the youngest Weasley.

Ron swallowed the sausages he'd had been chewing on before he answered this time.

"You think that's true?" He asked.

"It could be possible." She answered, her face thoughtful. "It's at least an interesting thought."

"I just don't see what's that to do with Snape however." Ron sighed. "He's been arrested last night." Maybe he could change the subject into the direction he wanted. Namely to get information if Snape would come back or not.

"We know this little fact, Ronnikins." George said.

"It's in the paper, you know?" Fred added.

"And we can read after all, contrary to you."

"I can read!" Ron growled.

"I see that, dear baby brother." Fred smirked at him.

"Needing dear Hermione to read the papers to you." George snickered.

"I don't need her to read the paper." Ron shook his head. "I didn't want to read this article in the first place. I'm rather interested in Snape's arrest."

Shaking his head George nudged Hermione. "Go on reading, Hermione." He said. "Snape's mentioned there, don't worry Ronnikins."

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Quirinius Quirrell, Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, inwardly smiled while he outwardly tried to look as shocked as every other one looked right now while reading the Daily Prophet. And honestly, never before had he seen the paper thus demanded. The students sat huddled together in groups so those who did not get the daily newspaper could read together with those who got the Prophet and even the teachers were reading instead of observing the students.

But it worked to his favor. Alone what he had been able to read. The boy surely was so weak, it would be easy to destroy him, if he just could get him alone and without Snape.

Snape, he didn't trust him, he didn't like him, and if he had been honest with himself, then he had to admit, he even feared him. Snape was dangerous. Snape was not one of them, he knew it. Snape was a traitor. He wasn't loyal to the Dark Lord. And he knew that Snape didn't trust him either, that he wasn't able to fool Snape with his stuttering act.

But Snape had been arrested and he right now was facing a trial. If he was lucky, just a bit, then Snape wouldn't come back to Hogwarts anytime soon. Then he would rot in Azkaban for the next fifty years or so. And then he could get close to Potter who soon would be attending classes.

And even if Snape got out of this, even if he came back, well, Snape couldn't watch Potter forever. Snape would have to go back to teaching at one point and Potter would go to his own classes. He would be able to get Potter alone then.

His eyes wandered to the Slytherin table where the young Dursley sat. A muggle. And he grimaced in disgust. But this muggle maybe would be the key to Potter. Dursley was shunned, even by the Slytherins, and he easily could use the boy to get Potter. It would be a mere child's play, honestly.

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Lucius Malfoy left the cell, forcing himself to show his usual dignity and arrogance he was known for, to keep himself from closing his eyes and leaning against the nearest wall just for a moment, while Narcissa's words still ran through his mind.

_"You have known that Severus was a traitor. You always have known, Lucius, and you never have done anything against it. You have betrayed the Dark Lord. You do not know how long I have worked against you, trying to get you dishonored. You __do not know how hard I worked to get sole custody over Draco. He would have been able to grow up in the knowledge that his place within the Dark Lord's inner circle is safe for him as soon as our Master is back one day. He even has poisoned Potter since the start of term as I told him to do in your name, slowly but surely weakening him, killing him. And by now it is too late to safe the brat, he will die."_

He still did not really understand his wife's intentions. He still did not really know what Narcissa had been playing at and why. He just did not understand it.

Yes, of course he had been loyal to the Dark Lord and yes, he had been a Death Eater, still was one. But for the price of their son's soul before he even was of age? For the price of their son murdering someone? A child? Killing another child? It was wrong and he knew it as well as Narcissa knew it. She was Draco's mother, she loved the boy, her son. Why would she risk such? Why would she risk her son's soul by getting him to kill another child?

She never had understood the real meaning behind all those, as it seemed. Well, least of them did. They all desired power, and they all were ready to kill and to torture even children in order to gain those desired power and their Lord's approval.

Well, yes. He too had killed to satisfy the Dark Lord and he was ready to kill again. What was a life without power anyway? But never had he done any harm to a child. A child, each child, should be given the chance to grow and to get strong, strong enough so he might defend himself one day against him, Lucius, to kill him one day in a fair duel.

But Narcissa, just as most of the Death Eaters – and he had to admit even the Dark Lord in later years – never had seen it this way, the original way of the pure blood set of rules.

Forcing these thoughts aside for the moment he quickly left the ministry. He had to visit Severus and he had to inform him about Draco poisoning Potter. And he had to be quick, even if now being too late. He didn't know which Potion Narcissa had ordered Draco to administer. Maybe it was one that really was deathly by now. But maybe, maybe Severus could do something. He was a Potions Master after all, and he was the best Potions Master of his time. If someone could find an antidote for whatever poison was already running through Potter's veins, then it was Severus Snape.

He would deal with Narcissa later.

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_Coming back to Salazar Slytherin however, he had not only been – yes, the faithful readers of this honorable paper now might gasp in shock – a close friend to Godoric Gryffindor who had been grieving terribly after the older wizard's death, but he also had been the first Potions Master and one who never had lost a student to __the dangerous subject he taught._

_Godoric Gryffindor himself had taken over the subject of Potions until a new Potions Master had been found and he had been the first Potions Teacher who had lost a student during his classes in Salazar Slytherin's subject, followed by Anrai Berach. Not much about this young man is known aside from the information that Salazar Slytherin had taken him as an apprentice a few years ago and that he had lost his student in his second year of teaching._

_The next Potions Master had been __Aquila Damaris, who had lost a first year student, followed by Master Festus who had not been able to prevent a young girl from dying in his class. The list goes on from Festus followed by Isaias Malachi, Micaiah Phineas, Marlow Venenatus, Zadok Dionysus, Helena Galahad, Adam Malfoy, Clinton Dexter, Alexander Prince, Esteban Eutrobio, Bryn Weasley, Potus Incantarus, Thomas Augustus, Cathryn McGonagall, Augusta Black, and George Gernot. It finally ends with Horace Slughorn who had lost a sixth year student, Andrew Bones, brother to Amelia Bones, who died after the explosion of a cauldron full of draught of living death._

_In __September 1979 Severus Snape had taken over from Horace Slughorn as the new head of Slytherin and Potions Master and up to now he is the only known Potions Teacher aside from Salazar Slytherin who never had lost a student during his classes. _

_Many now might say that he is teaching since only twelve years and that still a student could die in his class._

_But this reporter thinks not. This reporter has heard and seen enough of the Potions Master's ways of teaching. Harsh and stern in his classroom, not tolerating disrespect, disobedience or lack of concentration from his students and some of those students say that his sharp eyes never misses anything they do during potions. _

_Quote:__ "Snape sometimes reminds me at a vampire. He sees everything, he hears everything, and his reflexes are unnatural. Once I was about to throw a bug's eye into a cauldron instead of a spider's eye and I swear, he crossed the classroom within a split second and grabbed my hand before I could get the eye into the cauldron."_

_Of course is Professor Severus Snape not a vampire but a teacher that takes the subject and the responsibility of his students seriously, and thus he gives not only one hundred percent but one hundred and twenty during teaching a dangerous subject.__ And thus he has gained the respect of the students of his own house and they trust him._

_Quote: "Professor Snape might seem to be unfair to an outsider, but honestly, he punishes us as well as he punishes the Gryffindors, the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs__, maybe even more. He just does so in privacy. But he would give his own life for each of us if necessary, and not only for us Slytherins but for each student. They just don't see it."_

_The teachers too – even if some of them don't like loosing the house points he always takes – they respect their Potions Master for being a teacher who never had to raise his voice or his hand in class, who had his classes under perfect control. Especially Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress seems to be nearly proud of her younger colleague._

_Quote: "He needs his students to obey his ever command as soon as he gives it. And to ensure this he is as strict and as harsh as no one else, easily giving detention and docking points, but never has he been cruel to a student. He isn't a gentle man in the beginning and his sarcasm isn't easy to handle, but he isn't cruel either.__ He ensures the safety of the students and that is more than you can say from some other teachers."_

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Harry and Severus have to get used to being father and son_

_And what will Lucius do with Narcissa__?_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would be grateful if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	37. being a father

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well ? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now ?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Öhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**A****dded note:**

Well, for a moment I really was about to write another chapter without Harry and Severus. Just to annoy you as I knew that you waited for them being together again. But then I took pity on you and decided to write this one you can read below instead. I fear, you really would have killed me otherwise … ;.) …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been abused.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Quote: "He needs his students to obey his ever command as soon as he gives it. And to ensure this he is as strict and as harsh as no one else, easily giving detention and docking points, but never has he been cruel to a student. He isn't a gentle man in the beginning and his sarcasm isn't easy to handle, but he isn't cruel either. He ensures the safety of the students and that is more than you can say from some other teachers."_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter thirty-****seven**

**Being a father**

_"I suggest you do not floo directly to your chambers as you only would stumble over your son who is sitting in front of your fireplace."_ Elsa Harvest's words echoed through his mind, reminding him again at the pictures that rushed through his mind, pictures of a small and thin boy who was sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace, green eyes that were fixed at the dancing flames in the hearth and tears that were running down a much too pale face. He could imagine it just too clearly for his liking.

Maybe the boy would allow the flames to calm him, Severus thought while he was rushing along the corridors, down into the dungeons, and with each step he took towards his private chambers the dread he felt increased. Surely the boy would be alright. His son simply _had_ to be alright.

They had managed weeks of pain and fear, weeks of weakness and panic attacks, weeks of hard work and learning. And now he even had managed to get the boy adopted, against all odds. So – yes, his son simply _had_ to be alright.

Luckily he had avoided the press. He neither had the time nor the nerve to deal with them right now. He not even had the nerve to think at the article he an hour ago wanted so desperately to read. Whoever had written this article apparently had helped getting him free and nothing else mattered right now. He was on his way to Harry. He was on his way to his son.

He wondered for a moment how the boy so quickly had become his son in his mind, how he had been able to accept this little fact so quickly, how he could feel so worried over the boy so soon and so deeply. How was the boy doing this? Changing him so quickly and so completely? How had he managed to worm his way into his heart so soon and so totally? What kind of magic had the boy woven over him?

He had no answers to those questions, but honestly, he didn't mind.

The boy was his now, his son, and nothing else mattered.

He walked by the Slytherin common room, wondering for a moment about his snakes, knowing that they surely had heard about his arrest and hoping that they were alright. He knew that they held him in high regards, that they depended on him deeply and that they surely were upset and worried.

Sighing in defeat he gave the password and entered after the Portrait of Gwendolyn the rescuer swung open with a knowing smile. He really didn't have the nerve to deal with his snakes right now when he wanted nothing more and nothing else than to take his new son into his arms. His son who right now was sitting in front of his fireplace on the ground, waiting for him, upset and most likely crying his eyes out and the picture of the child sitting there, again occupied his mind, nearly made him turn and head on towards his private chambers.

But he also knew that he had to inform his snakes about his return to ease their worries. So he entered, hoping that they would accept the fact that he didn't have much time to answer their questions.

"Professor!"

"Uncle Severus!"

"Professor Snape!"

"You're back!"

"Professor!"

"Sir!"

His students were on their feet, one by one, their faces going from miserable to relieved and then to happy from one moment to the other and by the time some of the first and second years, Draco and Theodore amongst them, arrived him, actually hugged him, the questions were filling the large room as if it were a small chamber.

He pulled Theodore and Draco close for a moment, ruffling the hair of the rest that dared to come close enough to hug him before he lifted his hand to stop the questioning and then placed his hands on either Draco's and Theodore's shoulders. The chaos of voices stopped immediately and they all stood around him, the first and second years in front of the third and fourth years and the older students behind them. Only Marcus and Katherine, his prefects, came closer, shoving the younger students aside on their shoulders to reach him through the mass of students.

"Good to see you, Professor." Marcus greeted him, grinning over both of his ears but otherwise keeping his appearance while Katherine looked close to tears, barely managing a "hello, Professor" with a chocked voice.

"Katherine." Severus said, inclining his head towards the girl, piercing her for a moment, and then towards the boy. "Marcus. Thank you for this … Hufflepuff-like … greeting." He smirked. "All of you."

Some of the Slytherins smirked back, some actually laughed and some looked rather shocked, but none of them were really offended and he had known they wouldn't. None of them showed their emotions openly on their sleeves like the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs did, but they all _had_ those emotions nevertheless and here in the safety of their dungeons and in the safety of his presence they could afford to show them.

"I only shortly stopped to inform you of my return so none of you would try to pull any stupid stunts as you surely have done during my absence." He said, giving them the severe and harsh demeanour they, he knew, right now needed. "Or worry." He silently added, piercing his students with his dark eyes, easily noticing which of them had worried more, which of them had been calm and reasonable and which of them had even cried.

Draco and Theodore definitely had been amongst them. As had Tracy, Daphne, Katherine and a few others.

"Everything had been smooth, sir, upon your absence." Marcus reported. "We were worried of course, but no one did anything stupid. Only a few of the younger students had missed breakfast and classes this morning, but we've been about to discuss this through with them. What is the reason we have summoned the house together before classes this afternoon."

"That had to be expected, Marcus, and nothing will happen." Severus nodded. "No harm is done. But right now I do not have much time. I am sure you all can imagine that I have to look after Mr. Potter."

"Of course, Professor." Marcus said, starting to usher a few of the younger students away. "He must be worried sick. Thank you for showing up however."

"You are welcome." Severus answered. "We will have a meeting tonight if I can make it, otherwise tomorrow after your morning classes."

"Yes, sir." Marcus answered. "I'll have them summoned."

"Sir?" Draco asked, looking up at him and Severus lowered his eyes at his godson, giving his consent for him to ask a question.

"Did you manage, sir?"

"Did I manage what, Draco?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow at the blond boy.

"To adopt Harry." Draco explained. "Did you manage?"

For a moment Severus wondered how the boy came by this information, but then he remembered the article in the Daily Prophet and the howlers Fudge had gotten. The adoption had been mentioned in those howlers and thus it had been mentioned in this blasted article he still had not read yet.

His eyes searched the common room for a moment before they found what they were looking for and fell onto Dudley Dursley who was sitting alone at one of the tables, watching the commotion silently and he gave a curt nod.

"Yes, Draco." He answered, still watching the boy for a moment longer before he lowered his eyes back onto his godson and a small smile tucked at the corners of his lips. "I have managed."

Once more he gave a curt nod towards his students in general and a short squeeze on Draco's and Theodore's shoulders before he turned and approached the portrait that guarded the Slytherin common room. He opened the portrait-door but then turned back to them once more before he finally left the room.

"And Mr. Flint." He said. "You are allowed to … have a party tonight." He said, piercing the student with a stern gaze. "As long as you lead those students who had missed breakfast – and I am sure lunch as well – to the kitchens for a late meal and as long as you regard curfew. I expect all of you however to be present at dinner before you start your … party."

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Once again he hurried through the dungeon corridors, glad now that he had stopped at the Slytherin common room to give his snakes a bit of comfort. It had taken him a few minutes, but it had been the right decision anyway. They all needed him and his reassurances, his support, not only Harry.

Reaching the door to his chambers he just in time reminded himself to open the door slowly and silently. If Miss Harvest had been right, then the boy still was sitting in front of the fireplace and he only would startle him if he threw the door open with the force he felt right now. So, taking a deep breath he restrained himself and then placed his hand at the wooden door and gave the password.

Upon entering after the portrait had swung open his eyes fell first onto Minerva, easily noticing that she hadn't slept during the last night either and he immediately knew the reason as to why when he looked over at the fireplace and saw the boy, Harry, his son, sitting on the rug in front of the still dancing flames, sitting there, slightly rocking back and forth, Zilly kneeling beside the small form and trying to comfort the boy, as it seemed without any success and the clenching his chest gave away nearly was physically painful.

"Severus!" Minerva's voice brought him back to reality and he looked over at the woman who hasted towards him, a desperate look on her pale and tired face and again he had to remind himself that Minerva was the head of Gryffindor, not Slytherin and thus she wasn't used to such a situation, dealing with children like Harry.

"Minerva." He greeted the woman, his eyes never leaving the small form of the boy who still was sitting there, who still was rocking back and forth, his mind apparently far away as he hadn't noticed him yet and his worries grew immensely. "My thanks for your willingness to stay with Harry while I was gone."

"Master Snape!" Zilly squeaked, relieve showing on the small crumpled face but the little house elf made no attempts to get up from the floor, not ready to leave Harry's side and Severus was glad that the small creature was there. He should have known that Zilly would try to give some comfort to the boy. He had done so many years in the past whenever he himself had been in need of such.

"Zilly." He greeted his house elf.

"I'm so glad you're back, Severus." Minerva stated and one look at her was enough to ensure him that she really was. "The boy hadn't slept and he hadn't eaten anything. He just was sitting there since the moment you left."

"I have thought so." He sighed, his dark eyes still on the boy. "No offence, Minerva, but right now I would like to …"

"No offence, Severus." Minerva interrupted him. "But if you would excuse me, I would like to go to bed and have at least a few hours of sleep before I go and have a look at my Gryffindors. I am sure they too are worried upon my absence from the great hall since lunch yesterday and I guess you would like to be with Mr. Potter alone right now."

Yes, that was Minerva.

Knowing that he right now wanted nothing more than to care for the child that had become his son and that was upset beyond endurance right now and thus giving him an excuse by her own so that he would not have to throw her out after she had spend the night looking after the boy.

"I'll see you tomorrow evening, if your son is up to a lesson by then." She said, blinking for a moment curiously. "Mr. Potter is your son by now, Severus, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is, Minerva." Severus answered, not able to keep a smile off his face then and with a curt nod but a small also she turned and left his quarters, leaving him the time and the freedom to care for his son.

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Severus approached Harry slowly, not wanting to startle the boy and he crouched down beside the small form, peering into the pale and drawn face after a nod of thanks towards the house elf that immediately retreated a step or two.

But then he shook his head. He surely wouldn't have worried about startling Harry. The boy wasn't crying anymore, even if he clearly could see that he had done so for a long time, but he clearly was so far gone, he wouldn't have noticed his approach anyway, not even if he would have neared him stomping as loud as an elephant. The boy was more than just upset, he recognized instantly, the boy was far beyond of being aware of anything that went on around him and again the Potions Master's worries grew. He even wondered for a moment if he simply should give the boy a potion to bring him back, but then he decided against that.

They were at home in their chambers, in privacy, they had time, and he could deal with this the normal way, without daring to give the boy a potion that _could_ bring him out of his shock – maybe - but that wouldn't do him any good on the other hand. The boy still was not up to too many magical potions. And surely not after he hadn't eaten anything since yesterday afternoon.

"Harry?" He silently asked, still observing the small face, recognizing the hunted green eyes that had a far away look on the flames, and he simply couldn't bear the pain in this pale face. He reached out and let his hand settle on the boy's shoulder, sure that Harry would be startled now at the unexpected touch. But nothing happened. The boy did not even recognize this touch but continued to slightly rock back and forth.

Sitting behind his son Severus simply pulled the small body against his chest, wrapping his arms around the boy who seemed to murmur wordlessly, rocking against him and the older wizard tightened his grip, frowning with worry.

"Hush, child." He whispered into the boy's ear, still trying to stop the rocking movements the boy made, which only slowly lessened. "Hush. Everything is alright, I am here. You will be quite fine, child."

Noticing a small sob escaping from the child he took a chance and reached up to brush a stray tear from the pale cheek, to brush his hand over the boy's forehead that was a bit too cold and clammy for his liking and again he frowned, cast a quick spell onto the fire to increase its flames. He took the blanket that still lay on the floor beside the boy and wrapped the soft fabric around the small form, ensuring that the child would be covered tightly while he still held him close.

He didn't say much, just whispered a few words from time to time, just held the boy close against his chest, just allowed him to finally cry and just brushing his hand over the still clammy forehead every now and then, brushing hair off the boy's face, hair that was reminding him at his own.

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It was nearly an hour later and Harry had meanwhile stopped his rocking movements completely, had even stopped his sobbing meanwhile and he even squirmed in his arms, clearly tiredly, a slight whimper escaping him, while he tried to look at him, but he did squirm in his arms and he did try to look at him, gave a reaction, and that was more than Severus right now had been hoping for since his arrival and finding the boy so far off.

He shifted his son slightly, so that the smaller body leaned with his side against his chest, so that he had a better view of Harry's face and he noticed that the boy was even too tired to feel his normal fear. Not to mention reacting to it. Harry looked ready to fall asleep here and now but he guessed that the boy's nerves were just too strained to do so.

"Feeling better, child?" He asked, concern still clearly audible in his voice. Harry had been cold at first, but now he could feel the boy nearly burning up. He was calmer meanwhile, yes. And he was more aware of his surroundings, yes. He even seemed to react to the situation, yes. But he was feverish and exhausted – and still miserable.

"You do know, child." He silently whispered. "I have the papers back. The adoption papers."

The boy he still held in his arms simply nodded and he doubted that he really had understood one word he had said, simply reacting to his voice and nothing more. The boy reacted meanwhile and he knew that he was here, but he did not really recognize _what_ he told him, that he held him and maybe not even …

Sighing he gripped the boy's shoulders and lifted him off his lap, stood him on his feet and led him towards the bathroom. He didn't even bother releasing the boy to shove the door open and simply opened the door with a lazy flick of his wand, led the boy through and towards the sink.

Maybe he could get the boy out of his stupor by washing his face with cold water. Harry should eat something and for that he needed the boy awake and aware. He needed him responsive if he didn't want to feed him. He simply was worried over the fact that the child had neither eaten nor slept since he had been arrested last night.

He had known that Harry wouldn't take it well, but he had not thought he would take it that bad. What would he do when he had to go back to classes? Would he react in a similar way then? He couldn't be present all the time. He would have to go back to teaching all his classes soon. And Harry would have to go back to his own classes.

At least he now knew that he would not be able to get the boy back to his dormitory anytime soon. That much was sure. But honestly, he did not really mind. Harry had his room here and he already had promised him that he could come to his room whenever he wanted. And honestly, the boy was his son now. Who could keep him from doing so? Even if it wasn't common for a professor's child to sleep in his parent's chambers but in the dormitory? Harry was his son and he had the last say.

Taking a washcloth from the shelf beside the sink and opening the tab he held the fabric underneath the cold water and then placed the cold washcloth at the boy's warm forehead.

"Come now, child." He whispered. "Get fully awake. I am here now and you will be quite fine. You should eat something and then I will get you to bed. Everything is alright. I am here, son."

Harry still did not answer, simply leaned against him, tiredly and again he sighed. The boy didn't show any signs of fear, true, but neither did he sign an answer or anything else. All the strength he had built up during the past weeks was gone and he was back to simply being a small and weak child.

Worse even as he still was far off, not even the cold washcloth helping and somehow he knew he wouldn't get anything to eat into the boy. Not now at least.

Allowing himself a moment of weakness he leaned against the sink and closed his eyes, calling for Zilly and feeling more miserable than after a Death Eater meeting. This here was worse. They had worked so hard on the boy's strength during the past weeks and now all of it was gone, gone during one night and he didn't even know if it was just a momentarily weakness or if they really would have to begin from the start.

"Would you please bring a cup of chicken broth, Zilly?" He asked upon the soft 'pop' when his house elf arrived, his voice sounding as tired as he himself felt. They simply would have to deal with it, just as they had dealt with it since weeks and straightening himself he led the boy out of the bath and into his room, a grim expression on his face.

He would deal with that.

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He hadn't bothered with a bath for the boy but simply had put him to bed. He had managed to get the boy to drink the broth and he had even been able to convince him to sleep, even if it was a restless sleep.

He had feared that the boy would refuse the broth, that he maybe even would get into a panic attack, but it had worked. Harry simply had been too exhausted to try any refusal, had accepted the cup he had held on his lips and he had drunken the broth, slowly, but he had done so and the Potions Master had been grateful for this.

The next fight he – in all likelihood – would have tomorrow morning over breakfast. He simply knew. The boy was so far behind, he would have to fight for every piece of toast or sip of tea he would try to get into him. He would have to fight for the boy to use his signs and he would have to fight over doing the physical exercises. He was sure of that.

Shortly after the boy had finished the broth he had fallen asleep, he had worked the healing potion into the boy's skin over his arms, his legs and his back and shoulders, knowing that the boy had been tense for too long of a time, most likely since he had left last night, knowing that the boy's limbs and back already hurt by now and hoping that he would feel better by tomorrow morning after a good night's sleep and then he had pulled the blankets up over the small and huddled form.

He was tired himself, hadn't slept the night before, too worried over the trial, but now he didn't dare to go to bed and sleep, didn't dare to leave the boy alone and so he sat there, on the edge of the mattress and watched the small and, even in sleep, exhausted face, brushing hair off the boy's forehead, again recognizing hair that was so much like his own, brushing the washcloth over the boy's face every now and then.

Again Harry gave a small whimper away, not for the first time this evening and he leaned over, his head lowered to one side.

"It will be alright, Harry." He whispered, narrowing his eyes. "Everything will be alright."

Noticing a single tear running down the pale face he reached over and brushed the tear from his son's cheek with his thumb, caressing the pale skin for a moment longer than necessary.

"I am sorry I scared you, child." He whispered. "But you are not going to lose me, I promise. You are my son and I am right here. You won't lose me, I promise."

He ran his fingers from the boy's cheek where he had brushed the lone tear away and over the small nose and once more he narrowed his eyes.

It had been a few days ago. Him noticing that this nose neither was Lily's nor James'. He had been sure that he knew this nose and running his hand over the small bridge of Harry's nose, he nearly hitched a breath.

Running his hand through the mop of Harry's shoulder long black hair he pulled a strand over the pale face, arranging it over the face in a way that seemed familiar to him and his fingers began to tremble. The more hair he arranged around the small face and the closer he looked, the familiar this face became and in the end he nearly gasped.

Casting a searching look at the boy, ensuring that Harry really slept deeply right now he got up and left the nursery.

He entered the living area and went towards a bookshelf near the fireplace and for a moment he hesitated before he finally extended his right hand, slowly, nearly hesitantly, and he pulled a book out. It was a dark leather bound book, the cover showing that the book had been read quite often once and the pages nearly tattered.

He opened the coverlet and he couldn't help but brushing his fingertips lightly over the letters that were written there on the first page, letters written in a neat handwriting, written in a handwriting he recognized at once as Lily's, in a handwriting that even reminded him at Harry's for a moment and he had to force himself to turn the pages until he held a picture in his hand.

He slowly placed the book onto the coffee table, still staring at the picture, running his fingers over the woman that was running her fingers over the face of a much younger Severus Snape.

It wasn't a magical picture, the two people in it didn't move. Lily's father had taken the picture during one of his visits. They had been twelve by then. It had been during their first summer holidays from Hogwarts.

Lily's father, Harry's grandfather, had been a friendly man. As much as Lily's mother, Harry's grandmother, had been a friendly woman. He even wondered how Petunia had been so unpleasant, having grown up in a family like Lily's. Petunia should have been happy. She should have been as friendly as her parents and her sister had been.

And he – not for the first time – wondered how he could have been ready to hate that boy, Harry.

Harry's mother, he had loved her, loved her deeply. And Harry's grandparents, they always had welcomed him whenever he had visited them. They had been one of his refuges from his own home. They had done him a great service back then. But he had been ready to hate Harry, just because of James Potter.

But now …

He didn't hate Harry. He even loved this child.

His child.

His son.

Coming back to the room the boy right now was still sleeping in, he pulled the armchair closer and sat down, the picture of Lily and him still in his hand, and for a moment he wondered if he really wanted to do this, if he really wanted to know. But then he took a deep breath and he held the picture out, near Harry's face, and his dark eyes darted to and fro between the pale face of the sleeping child and the faces in the picture.

He at once recognized the resemblances between Harry and Lily.

The green eyes, even if the boy now had them close as he still slept. The form of those eyes. The boy's cheekbones and the softness of the face itself. The small mouth.

But he as well recognized other resemblances.

Resemblances between Harry and him, Severus.

The child that currently lay in his bed and for once slept peacefully had his hair. Black and shoulder long, framing the small face exactly like his had done back then.

He had the same nose than he'd had back in this picture. Not the nose he now had, the nose that clearly showed it had been broken at least once. But his nose nevertheless. It wasn't Potter's, it was his.

And definitely Harry had his chin. This prominent and defiantly looking chin. His eyebrows, those eyebrows that could express more than words sometimes. Was it because of those eyebrows that he was able to read the boy so clearly even if he held his mask in place? With nearly a small smile he noticed that the boy had the same dimples at the corner of his mouth as he had. And he had the same pale skin.

Well, yes. The boy was even more pale, unhealthy pale, but he knew as soon as the boy would get better, as soon as he could be outside with other children, playing and romping in the sun and in fresh air, rather than visiting the back yard once a day for a short time, he would gain color. A bit at least.

Placing the picture at the nightstand he took one of Harry's small and still fragile hands in his own, studied the small fingers that were stained with small cut-scars. They were thin, yes, thin due to the starvation the boy had been through for years, but they nevertheless would be long once and he knew that the boy had his hands as well.

The boy, Harry, his son, his adopted son, had inherited his hands. And his chin and his hair.

Looking back at the small face he suddenly recognized what all of that meant.

Harry was his son. And he was not only his adopted son, but he was his son by blood. Not James Potter's son, but his, Severus Snape's. Not James Potter had sired this boy, but he, Severus Snape. He was Harry's father by blood and he always had been.

He didn't have to wonder how that could have happened. He'd had a relationship with Lily, back then, before Albus had told her to marry Potter. And he knew how children were sired. And they'd _had_ sex during their relationship. So, yes, he knew how this could have happened. But what he didn't understand was – why had Lily never told him? There had been nothing between them from the day Lily had been with Potter.

It all had happened so quickly. One day they had been together, and the next day Albus had visited and then another day later she had been with Potter. So he hadn't thought anything when Harry had been born. It would have been possible that Potter had sired the boy shortly after. It could have been possible.

Taking out his wand he took the boy's small hand in his own, secured the small forefinger between his own forefinger and thumb and draw a small line over the boy's fingertip before he murmured a low "seco cutis".

It was a spell he hated, a spell he deeply hated, reminding him too much at his Death Eater days, but he simply had to know and this he needed a sample of the boy's blood. And he better did this now, while Harry was asleep, thus avoiding a panic attack, instead of when the boy was awake and would see what he did.

A small cut appeared at the small forefinger he held in his hand and reaching into one of the pockets of his robe he got out a small empty glass vial, one of those he always carried with him. He was a Potions Master after all and he was used to have a small, empty glass vial with him all the time. You never knew when you stumbled over a rare potions ingredient.

"Hush, child." He whispered upon the small whimper the boy gave away and he let a few drops fall into the vial. "Everything is alright. I am here, child. And you are safe. Everything is quite fine. Sleep."

Closing the vial with a cork stopper and casting a cooling charm over the small glass container so the blood would be kept safe he placed it back in the pocket of his robe and waved his wand over the small cut, murmuring a soft "curare cutis" and the cut closed itself without a scar left, just as if it never had been there.

He would have to brew a paternal potion.

Not now. He would not leave his son alone right now, but he would brew them tomorrow, or tomorrow night. Considering how well the boy would be by then.

Had Lily known all along that Harry was his son instead of Potter's? Had Albus known? For a moment he nearly seethed in fury. If Albus had known, and as he knew the older wizard he nearly was sure _that_ he had known, but _if_ he had, then he had kept his son from him during all those years. Then he had placed his son knowingly with his abusive relatives. Then …

Closing his eyes he tried to get himself back under control. He would do no good if he now lost his temper. Neither to him nor to the child that needed him more than anything else. He would brew this potion tomorrow and then he would see who Harry's father was. He would wait until then.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"I take it Snape is back?" Fred Weasley asked, approaching Marcus Flint who was leaving the great hall after dinner.

"Professor Snape." The Slytherin prefect answered, watching the two Gryffindor twins and trying to tell them apart. "And yes, he is back."

"Well, it isn't as if you would call Professor McGonagall otherwise than McGonagall." George smirked at the older student.

"In fact, we do call Professor McGonagall with her title, Weasley." Marcus lifted his eyebrow. "Professor Snape would have our hide if we wouldn't."

"You might have a point, Flint." Fred said, his face thoughtful.

"I guess he is the strictest head of house you can imagine." George added.

"Contrary to what most of you believe, yes, he is." Marcus said. "He punishes us as well as you. He just doesn't do so in the open."

Fred had a thoughtful expression on his face while he watched Marcus.

"He's alright, isn't he?" George wanted to know.

There was a slight pause while Marcus wondered how much information he should give away. But the twins never had given them a really hard time. And they had asked a simple question. There was no harm in answering this one.

"Yes, he is fine." He finally answered. "I guess you have read the Prophet and thus know that he had been arrested, but he is back, he is fine and he has visited the common room upon his return."

"Snape, Professor Snape, visits your common room?" Fred blinked at the Slytherin.

"Imagine, McGonagall visiting the Gryffindor common room." George shook his head, shuddering.

"Uhm, better not." Fred shook his head.

"Professor McGonagall never visits the Gryffindor common room?" Marcus asked, nearly shocked.

"Nope." George shook his head.

"Never." Fred mimicked his twin.

"Professor Snape does so?" George asked.

"Every evening normally." Marcus said, still confused, not understanding why McGonagall wouldn't do such. She was the head of Gryffindor house. She was supposed to be there for the Gryffindors.

"Why?" Fred asked, as confused as Marcus was.

They were walking through the entrance hall and down a flight of stairs that led towards the dungeons, but neither of them noticed that the Weasley twins were in an area where they didn't belong to.

"Well, to ensure that everything is alright." Marcus answered. "So we have the chance to address him with problems, with any problems, never mind if they concern studies or other problems."

"Other problems, like?" George again asked, curiously.

"Like nightmares, homesickness, if we can't sleep or if we have troubles at home." Flint answered, not understanding why the twins asked. "Why?"

"Well, we never would go to McGonagall with such." Fred shook his head. "Imagine, addressing McGonagall if you couldn't sleep."

"But, whom do you go to if you don't go to your head of house?" Marcus asked, stopping in his steps now.

"Well, to no one." George blinked at the Slytherin prefect. "We simply wake the others in the dorm and have a bit of fun until we can sleep. You really go to Professor Snape if you can't sleep?"

"Of course." Marcus said, watching the twins close. They really didn't go to their head of house if they had problems? They really tried to solve everything alone? But what for did they have a head of house then? Weren't they allowed to?

"And you really would go to Professor Snape if you had a nightmare? In the middle of the night?" Fred blinked at him.

"Yes." Marcus confirmed, continuing his walk towards the Slytherin common room. "Professor Snape would have our hide if we were in trouble and wouldn't ask for his help."

"I beg your pardon?" George asked, now really blinking in shock. "He really _expects_ you to come to him if you were in trouble?"

"Listen, Weasley." Marcus shook his head and again stopped waking, turning towards the two twins. "I don't know how things in _your_ house work. But in Slytherin we do not only follow the orders of our head of house but we can seek the help of our head of house also. In the contrary. It is as I told you, we really would be in great trouble if we would hide our pains or our fears from Professor Snape. He is our head of house and he is not only there to help us with our studies but to help us in everything. Here at school a head of a house replaces the head of the house at home, namely your parents. Didn't Professor McGonagall tell you this?"

"Nope!" George gasped, nearly in shock.

"No, she didn't!" Fred blinked, just as shocked as George. "So – you really consider Professor Snape as – someone like your father?"

"Yes." Marcus simply answered.

"But – you really can go to him with everything?"

"Of course." Marcuse shook his head and continuing his walk. Maybe that was the reason why the Gryffindors were so foolish? Because they had no one who stood behind them and led them? Because they had no one who really cared? About everything?

"Well." Fred began, the moment Marcus gave the password to the Slytherin common room and entered, not caring that the twins followed him into the realm of the snakes, and he had a grin on his face causing Marcus to quirk his eyebrow at him. "Let me say, you are lovesick? Would you even then go to him?"

"If it were worse enough so I needed comfort, then yes." Marcus shook his head and reached one of the butterbeers Henson already had organized to the twin. "Thanks, Henson." He said at the other Slytherin boy. "The others are on their ways. They just get some cookies from the kitchens."

"Alright, Marcus." The other boy nodded, casting a curious glance towards the Gryffindors that had dared to enter their lair. "Evening, Weasleys." He said before opening a butterbeer for himself, apparently needing one for the shock of seeing lions in the snake's den.

"And before you ask, Weasley." Marcus turned back towards Fred while reaching a bottle to the other twin. "He would talk to you then, he would try to give you an advise or two and if nothing helped, then he even would have a word with the counterpart."

This time the twin chocked on the butterbeer he had taken a sip from a moment ago and he nearly spat it out.

"What?" He asked, his eyes large.

"Did I speak a foreign language, Weasley?" Marcus asked, pointing at the sofa. "Other question. What would Professor McGonagall do if you would addressed her with such a question?"

"Hmm … dunno." George answered, lowering his head to one side.

"No one ever did." Fred shook his head while seating himself onto the sofa Marcus had pointed at. "At least I don't know someone who ever did."

"But that is ridiculous." Marcus shook his own head now. "I don't understand. She is your head of house and you should be able to address her with everything. While at the same time she is supposed to help you with everything. What will you do if you're really ill?"

"Well, then we go to her of course, or to Pomfrey."

"But that is different."

"That is … dunno … not the same …"

"I begin to see that our houses really are very different." Marcus said. "Maybe one day you two address your head of house with being lovesick and then tell me what she did. I really would want to know this one. And honestly, you two would be the candidates to pull such a thing."

"Snape." Fred grew serious again. "He isn't as bad as he always displays, is he?"

Marcus was silent for a moment, watching the twin as serious as the twin watched him, before he finally shook his head.

"You probably wouldn't understand, because you don't know our background, nor Professor Snape's and it surely isn't my place to tell you. but no, he isn't. I wouldn't want someone else as my head of house. He's here for us, always, he protects us and he helps us, either with our studies or with simple comfort. He would give his life for each of us if necessary. And by the way, for each of you too. You just never noticed this."

"In fact, we did." George said, his voice as serious as Fred's and Marcus'. "What is the reason as to why we addressed you this evening. Otherwise we maybe wouldn't care. It was last year, when he saved Oliver from getting smashed by this damn troll that had made its way into Hogsmead. He hadn't been on school ground and he could have looked away, but he didn't."

"He never looks away." Marcus growled while furrowing his brows. "And he always looks deeper than just your appearance. He always sees more than other teachers. What is the reason why he understands where other teachers do not."

Both twins nodded.

"Patil told us about her detention with your head of house." Fred said. "He talked to her about her parents and he ordered her to write them a letter in order to get over her homesickness. And she felt better afterwards."

"I know." Marcus shrug his shoulders.

"You knew?" George asked, curiously.

"And you never held it against her?" Fred shook his head.

"Why should I have done, Weasley?" Marcus lifted his eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest, reminding both twins at the Potions Master and they couldn't help grinning. "You are not so different. Our firsties are homesick too in the beginning, you know?"

"Well, maybe our houses are not so different." Fred laughed, raising his bottle of butterbeer. "Maybe only our heads of houses are really different."

"I wouldn't bet on that, Weasley. I would not want to meet Professor McGonagall after curfew in a dark corridor. She can be as strict as Professor Snape. She only doesn't seem to care."

"She does care. Just in another way than Professor Snape."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Simply - Severus brews a paternal potion._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would be grateful if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	38. the Potions Master

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well ? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now ?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Öhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"I wouldn't bet on that, Weasley. I would not want to meet Professor McGonagall after curfew in a dark corridor. She can be as strict as Professor Snape. She only doesn't seem to care."_

_"She does care. Just in another way than Professor Snape."_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter thirty-eight**

**The Potions Master**

He went through his laboratory with excellent sureness, gathering ingredients from the cupboard that stood in one corner, vials from shelves that lined the walls and after he had placed them on the worktable that stood in the middle of the large and stony room he took out a cauldron from under the worktable, choosing a small silver one. He meanwhile had reached the proper mindset, peace and serenity welling up from within, spreading through his body and up to his mind, guiding his feelings and thoughts. The perfect mindset to create a new potion and the perfect mindset to brew a known one too.

He had asked Minerva to stay with Harry for two hours, the boy still asleep, and now he had the peace and time to concentrate onto his work, his senses high, ready to brew a potion with care and ready to counteract any undesired reactions from the ingredients before they even happened.

**Flashback**

_"How is the boy, Severus?"_

_"He is still asleep." Severus answered, his voice sounding nearly angry. "He has been too exhausted and did not wake once during the evening. Did you sleep, Minerva?"_

_"I did." The deputy headmistress said. "And I have already spoken to my prefects to ease my lions' worries. So, I could watch Mr. Potter for a while, while you go for sleep for yourself. You know, if you care for an ill child, then you should watch out for yourself too before you break."_

**End flashback**

Severus began to check the ingredients, taking the vials with long and experienced fingers, while he swirled them, examining the color and the texture, taking the leaves and roots and feeling their textures, sniffing at them, judging their interaction to each other, knowing instantly how they would balance each other as soon as he would add them to the potion, knowing its place in the periodic table of the magical elements.

This was the state a proper Potions Master reached while working in his field of mastery, a deep harmony of all his knowledge, experience and creativity that guided his hands and his mind while brewing. A state in which his mind was at ease and his soul peaceful and quiet, a state in which he didn't have to fear his reflexes nor his instincts.

It wasn't the state of mind he reached during a potions class where he had to concentrate on his students. It would be dangerous, maybe even deadly. In this mindset he could brew a potion even blindfolded, but he wouldn't be able to control a class of stupid dunderheads that messed around with dangerous ingredients or liquids.

**Flashback**

_"This won't be necessary, woman!__ I'm not made of sugar and I surely won't – break!" Severus growled darkly, his mood not the best in the beginning._

_"You of all people should know you should take the help you can get and sleep when possible." The Gryffindor head of house scolded him, having known that the Potions Master would give her this answer. "You won't be of great help if you are weak by yourself while caring for a child that needs all your strength."_

_"I will take your offer." Severus said after a moment of considering the woman's words. "But not for sleeping as I have a rather important potion to brew."_

**End flashback**

He knew that the blood he had taken from the boy would cause a strong reaction. And his own blood would cause an even stronger reaction to the paternal potion he was brewing. The vial of blood replenisher would be the base. It was a blood test and he needed a base that was based on blood. The ginger roots, crushed together with the nettles of the silver fir would cause the chicken liver to get Harry's and his blood interacting with the potion itself as soon as added to the cauldron.

The chicken heart would react with the moonstone that would ensure the magic to enfold itself in a correct way and the chicken kidneys would keep the potion clean and free from the poisonous dragon fangs he needed to get both blood samples, his son's and his own, to react with each other.

He placed the exact amount of ginger root and the nettles from the silver fir into a stony bowl and crushed them with a mortar, knowing that they would react different – and the wrong way – if he would crush them separately and mixing afterwards. Those two ingredients already interacted while being crushed and would later cause a harmonious whole to the other components.

**Flashback**

_"__I beg your pardon? What potion, Severus?" Minerva shook her head in disbelieve. "You can't brew a potion right now! Surely there is nothing more important than Harry right now?"_

_"This potion concerns Harry, Minerva." Severus growled. "I however cannot tell you what potion it is. Not now at least. Aside from the fact that it indeed is important. I will tell you as soon I have the results. In an hour and a half."_

_"I will be here, Severus." Minerva said defeated, shaking her head and curiosity taking the upper hand. "But I expect an answer as soon as you've finished this one. You have me quite interested now."_

**End flashback**

Thoughts of the boy sleeping in his room swirled through the background of his mind while he worked, thus causing his instincts to brew the potion with his son in his mind. It only would benefit the potion itself. As a Potions Master he knew that not only the ingredients were necessary. And not only preparing them correctly either. Not even the correct stirring and the correct heat was an only aspect. It took more to brew a potion.

What made the difference when it came to potions between science and art was his own magical state of mind, his balance, and the slight and instinctive decisions he made, the instinctive adjustments, with a precision obtained with an external or an internal guideance, considering what exactly he needed at the precise moment. Delicacy, control, and the precise addition of his own personal magic, these were what Severus used in each of his brewed potions.

And these were the reasons why his students so miserably failed in the subject. None of them really understood the absolute challenge, the daring to cross the line between science and art, none of them dared to slip from the receipt, to ignore a step in the receipt or to add a step that was not mentioned there on instinct, none of them knew, nor dared, the personal sacrifices that were required when inventing a new potion with the knowledge that death could linger inside the cauldron.

**Flashback**

_"Harry." Severus softly called out, not wanting to startle the boy. _

_But Harry didn't react. He simply continued the cutting of the daisy roots, his mind far away as it seemed and Severus slowly came closer, softly calling out his name again. And again without gaining a reaction from the eleven year old that looked so small. And right now so lost, lost in his own mind, lost in his brewing. _

_He immediately knew that the boy had lost himself in the potion and he had to smile. It was the first step required to become a Potions Master. A year or two maybe, and the boy would be able to use his instincts. And another year and the boy would instinctively add his own magical signature to a brewed potion. _

**End flashback**

He cut the chicken liver into fine slices, knowing that Hagrid had killed the animal just an hour ago as he had asked him to, knowing it was fresh and would suit the potion better than either dried chicken liver or even rat livers other Potions Masters would use in this potion.

His fingers moved with sureness and experience, guiding the sharp knife without slipping once and the blade didn't even make a sound on the chopping board.

The long fingers took the chicken heart and again they guided the knife to cut fine slices, just as they had done with the chicken liver. He would have to repeat the process with the chicken kidneys before he would place all those cut ingredients into a bowl with a basic cooling potion, a potion that was neutral and thus used for all ingredients that were used for test potions.

He blinked for a moment before he took the chicken kidneys, weighed them, and then he cut them as well into the same fine and exact slices as he had done with the livers and heart, drifting away into his thoughts and feelings again.

Yes, it was not enough to memorize recipes, it was not enough to remember properties, quantities and reactions for brewing a perfect potion. The brewer had to lose himself in the process, and he had to find himself anew in the process.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He allowed his emotions to flow through his body. The joy he felt when thinking at Harry being his adopted son, the curiosity he felt when thinking at Harry being his son by blood, being sired by him. The rage he felt when considering that Albus might have known all along, had kept his son from him for years. The sympathy he felt for a small child that had been starved and beaten, to near death, and for years. The admiration for a child that had survived hell and now was ready to try and learn and trust.

He allowed the tightness he had felt in his chest to repeat itself when Harry had been eating by free will for the first time, when Harry had lifted his small hand to touch his hair, his face, his hand for the first time, when Harry had slept in his arms for the first time and feeling safe enough so he had slept without having a nightmare.

He allowed himself to feel fear again, the fear that the boy might not survive during those first days and nights, the fear he accidentally could break those small and weak limbs and fingers, the fear the boy never might gain any weight and muscle mass. And he allowed his pride to wash over him again when the boy had done his physical exercises so well, even if weakly, the pride he had felt when the boy had managed his first signs, his first written words. When the boy had started to asked questions, to trust him enough to mention things on his own.

He allowed all those emotions to flow freely and to wash over him, but he didn't allow them to take over control, over his actions, over his state of mind, and over the calm movements of his hands. He truly immersed himself into the potion he was brewing, losing touch with the outside world every now and then before emerging back to reality for a short moment while having his attention on measuring ingredients or testing their state.

Filling the blood replenisher into the cauldron together with the moonstone he started the fire underneath the cauldron, lowering it to a minimal flame and he waited for a few moments until the blood replenisher was heated but didn't simmer before he added the sliced and pickled chicken livers, hearts and kidneys. He stirred the potion clockwise, exactly nine times before he added a counter clockwise stir and then waited a minute until the smell of the liquid in the cauldron had changed before he added the potion they had been pickled in, again stirring nine times before adding one counterclockwise stir and then waiting another minute until its texture had changed slightly.

Harry deserved to be his son. This boy deserved to be anyone's son. Weak but strong at the same time. Fearful and brave at the same time. Childish and grown-up at the same time. This child was a walking contradiction.

Just like _he _was, he thought for a moment while he added the mix of crushed ginger roots and white fir nettles.

He stirred the potion in an eight, knowing that it wasn't important how many stirs he took, as long as he stirred until the potion lost its red base color, went clear, knowing it would take at least five minutes, knowing that he had to stir slowly and calmly.

Harry had come such a long way since he had come to Hogwarts, a way he had thought impossible.

Yes, he had known from the beginning that he would have to prepare Harry for classes, but he had not really believed it possible. He always had thought that the boy either wouldn't manage any traces of mind magic, that the boy would be too weak and too fearful, too jumpy and withdrawn to actually attend classes one day and he once again could feel the worry washing over him.

But the boy _had_ managed. The boy was ready. Or at least he would have been. He had planned taking the boy to potions on Thursday afternoon, tomorrow. But as it stood now, he wouldn't be able to. Maybe next week on Tuesday afternoon, if he was lucky, but even that he doubted. The boy had been thrown back for weeks. He had yet to get the boy to eat anything again. And he had yet to get the boy to use his signs or his notebook again. Damn, he had yet to get the boy to react in a normal way again.

His arrest had thrown the boy back too far for his liking and maybe it would take him even weeks to catch up to what they had been working for so hard for weeks now, to get the boy back to what they had managed after weeks of hard work. Right now the boy – his son – was back to a frightened, weak and pained small child that maybe would have to relearn trusting him.

And Harry _had_ trusted.

First into all those lies those blasted muggles had taught him, that a child like him deserved the smallest room, the merest to eat and no comfort at all. He had trusted in those lies because he hadn't had any way to know better, already being starved down to a skeleton, starved to an emotional unstable child and beaten to a bloody little body. Not to mention raped by this abominable and obese muggle named Vernon Dursley.

And then he had lost his trust, slowly but surely, over the years while being tortured by them, while going through hell in their household, until mistrust, fear, pain and misery had been all that had been left, until he had been destroyed by them completely.

But this child had been able to learn to trust again, to trust _him_ over the weeks.

He stopped his stirring and added the crushed dragon fangs, again stirring the potion, increasing the flame and finally allowing the potion to simmer for exactly ten minutes before he turned the flame underneath the cauldron off when it was clear like water. He would allow the potion to cool down a bit before he would fill it into vials. He would need one vial, maybe two if he would want to make the test twice, just to be sure. And he would keep a third vial in his stock. But the rest of the potion he would bring to St. Mungos over the next few days, knowing that they always needed such a potion and knowing that there were not many Potions Masters who were able to brew this precise potion.

Not for the first time Severus asked himself how he had missed all those signs. And honestly, it wasn't that there had been only those signs most of the other teachers always missed, like those hunted eyes, the afraid look and movements, the bent shoulders and other strange reactions those children all showed, most of the teachers missed and he always noticed.

No, there had not been only those signs. The entire abuse had been visible. The boy had been a skeletal mess that had been hiding his body within his robes. And he should have seen them, he should have noticed them. Yet – he hadn't. Not entirely at least. And yes, he did blame himself for this. If he had not noticed it for a few days more, then the boy would have been beyond help. He would have died, just like Lily had died. On his hands.

Yes, he had killed, and yes, he had other deaths on his hands, and yes, each death was horrible, but no death had been so horrible to him than Lily's had been. And if her son would have died on his hands too …

Shaking those thoughts off he began to bottle the potion, using a dipper made of silver too to fill the potion into the glass vials, again his hands moving with sure movements, without the slightest shaking, not spilling one drop of the potion.

It had taken him weeks and weeks of seeing hunted, hungry, fearful and pained green eyes until he had seen the boy smile for the first time, even if it had been a shadowed and hesitant small smile, overlaid with nervousness and unsureness. But it had been a smile. And it had been a smile that had made him hitch a breath, so much like Lily's smile. The set of the small mouth a line that resembled the warm and soft curve of Lily's lips. There had been no sign of James Potter's wicked smirk.

It had been the moment when he had known that this boy truly was nothing like his father. Like James Potter.

He stoppered the vials with a cork that had been dipped into the same cooling potion he had pickled the cut chicken livers, hearts and kidneys earlier to keep the potion stable, sealed them with sealing wax and his sign of Mastery, a small but ornate s and then he labeled them with his spidery handwriting as a paternal potion before he placed nine of the bottles onto one of the lower shelves to be sent over to St. Mungos, two he placed onto one of the higher shelves for a later use for himself and the last one of the batch of paternal potion he had brewed he took and swirled in his fingers.

The color was right, as was the texture. He brought the small bottle to his nose and sniffed, nodding his head when he learned that the potion smelled correctly too. Only then he placed his middle finger over the vial and dipped it over, wetting his finger with the clear potion before bringing it to his lips and licking the potion off.

Yes, it was brewed perfectly and smiling he took Harry's blood sample and added one single drop into the vial, swirled the liquid for a few times. The potion turned from clear to red, red like the drop of blood he had added, only it was a slightly lighter red.

Closing his eyes for a moment he took a deep breath before he took another vial, again a small and glassy vial that contained a sample of his own blood and again he added one drop to the potion before he swirled the liquid once more a few times, his nerves strained like the string of a violin. Even if he already knew the outcome.

If Harry indeed were his son by blood, then the potion would turn a deeper red color. If the boy were not his son, then the potion would turn back to being nearly clear.

Stopping the swirling movement he once more closed his eyes before he opened them and then gazed at the vial he held in his hands. The color had darkened. It was a deep red now, indicating that the paternal potion had not only reacted but that the potion had recognized Harry's blood as his, Severus', son's blood, his, Severus' blood as Harry's father's blood.

Harry was indeed his son. His son by blood, the child he had sired.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Would you bring us two cups of tea, please, Zilly?" Severus asked upon entering his living area and calling for his house elf. "Peppermint with honey for Professor McGonagall and the usual one for me, please."

"Of course, Master Snape, sir." The little creature answered. "Biscuits too, sir?"

"Yes, Zilly." The Potions Master answered. "I am sure Professor McGonagall will appreciate that, as hopefully will Harry later when he wakes."

A moment later he turned towards the transfiguration teacher who got to her feet, watching him with a curious glance and he sighed, placed his hands onto the backrest of the armchair he was standing behind.

"Well, as it seems, Harry is my son." He simply stated.

"I beg your pardon, Severus?" Minerva asked the moment the house elf brought the tea, reaching one to the Gryffindor head of house and one to the Slytherin head of house instead of placing them on the small coffee table like any other house elf would do. Zilly long ago had started to become rather close to the person he was serving and in his mind Severus still was the child he had comforted so often years ago. He was nearly two hundred and fifty years old after all and the thirty-one years of his master was nothing to him.

Not to mention that the Potions Master always had treated him with respect and thus he loved the man that was his master deeply.

"I thought that was clear, Severus." Minerva said, blinking in confusion at her younger colleague.

"It was clear that I have adopted Harry Potter, yes." Severus said, taking the teacup with a nod of thanks from Zilly, the porcelain of the cup leaving pleasant warmth on his fingers that had become a bit cold in the laboratory. One did not keep delicate potions ingredients in a place that was overly heated after all. Thus his laboratory was not freezing but cold nevertheless.

He reached the vial with the paternal potion he had brewed and tested towards the older witch and Minerva took it, looked at the dark red liquid with a confused gaze, before she looked over at him, not understanding.

"I always knew that potions weren't your strongest subject, Minerva." Severus couldn't help saying. "This potion however proves that - I have adopted my own son."

"You have … this is a paternal potion?" Minerva asked. "I never have seen one before. But why did you brew a paternal potion in the first place? And what do you mean, you have adopted your own son?"

The younger wizard simply waved her over, beckoned her to follow him and he entered his son's room and silently walked over to the bed Harry still was sleeping in. He didn't say anything but simply reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled the picture of him and Lily out, the one that had caused him to notice the similarity between Harry and himself. Reaching it towards Minerva and pointing with his hand at the boy in the bed he stood back and waited, watching her close.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Minerva took the picture Severus reached towards her, curious, not knowing what the Potions Master wanted, and he cast a questioning gaze towards the man who extended his hand towards the boy in the bed, causing her to look at the child.

Right now Harry was sleeping peacefully, without any nightmares and she guessed that he simply was too exhausted, not only bodily but emotionally as well. The past two days had been a rollercoaster for the boy. Hell, the past few weeks, even months and years had been a rollercoaster for the boy.

Gazing at the picture Severus had given her she raised her eyebrows. It was a picture of Lily and him, one in which they were younger, a muggle made picture as the persons within were not moving. Two young students were laughing, Lily running her fingers over Severus' face. It wasn't a magical picture and the two persons within really were not moving, were fixed to the picture itself. And it was an old picture, monochrome, but nevertheless the joy and the peace both had been feeling were present in the photograph and she couldn't help but smile a sad smile.

One of those two former students was dead since years now, had been in her house, a fine young witch that had been not only intelligent and rather powerful when it had been coming to charms and transfiguration, even potions. A young witch that had been kind and respectful to each human being, that had been able to laugh and lit the entire room with her presence.

The other one was still alive, standing beside her right now, a young wizard that had been a Slytherin and was now a respectable Potions Master and a head of a house by himself, of Slytherin. A young wizard that too was rather powerful when it came to dueling, to legillimens and occlumency, when it came to potions. A young man that never had really laughed aside from those moments he had been with Lily Evans during the first five years of his time in Hogwarts.

She cast a quick but sad smile at the man that still watched her with his ever present stoical mask before she lowered her eyes back onto the picture and then towards the boy in the bed as Severus had told her to.

And she too nearly gasped in shock, her eyes darting from the boy in the bed back towards the boy in the picture and then back towards the boy in the bed. They nearly were the same. The boy in the picture a bit larger, a bit older, a bit stronger than the boy in the bed, his eyes darker and his face not as thin, his limbs not as fragile. But they nearly were the same nevertheless.

And suddenly she understood.

Harry always had been Severus' son.

There would have been no need for Severus to adopt Harry.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Did Albus know about this?" Minerva asked, her voice still shaking.

"I do not know." Severus answered. The man had his dark voice perfectly under control, as always, but his dark eyes were not quite as cold as they normally were while he gazed towards the door that led to Harry's chamber. "But I have a feeling that he might have known. I can not be sure however."

"But why should he keep this from you?" Minerva asked, still shocked. "Why should he keep your son from you?"

"I have been a spy, Minerva." Severus simply stated, giving her the only explanation he himself had. "And maybe he had known that I would quit my spying if I had known about having a son and would start a family with Lily and Harry instead. I in fact have been about to do so, shortly before … I have been about to do so the moment I learned that Potter had laid his hands on Lily in a violent manner I was about to get her and Harry out of this house and …"

"I beg your pardon, Severus?" Minerva asked, narrowing her eyes at him. "James? Laying his hands in a violent manner on Lily? He never would have done such."

"He did." Severus simply stated.

"But that is ridiculous. James had loved Lily."

"James never had loved Lily." Severus growled angrily. "He wanted to own Lily and as soon as he did he simply had forgotten about her. Do you wish to know where he slept during their wedding night?" The man asked, pouring a shot of whiskey into a glass and stiffly reaching it towards Minerva. "He slept on the sofa, being too drunk to even crawl into the bed he was meant to share with the wife he had married only hours ago." He said, not waiting for an answer from the woman, while he poured himself a bit of the whiskey.

"And that had been standard from the day they had married to the day they had died. Potter having his life one big party with Black while Lily had been placed aside and forgotten. I have been there, Minerva. I have been there, directly on her side, and I have seen it all. As has Lupin, her only other friend through her miserable marriage with Potter – and Black."

"And Black?" Minerva asked. "Sirius …"

"Black practically had been living at the house." Severus interrupted her with a sneer. "And sometimes I actually wondered if Potter had been married to Lily or to Black. But neither of them had been there for Lily. Not throughout her marriage, not throughout her pregnancy and not throughout her giving birth to Harry. And surely not afterwards after Harry had been born. Potter had been gone for three days after I told him that he had become a father. And only Merlin knows where he and Black had been during those days."

"_You_ have told him?" Minerva asked, startled. "You have been there to tell him? How so? I don't understand, Severus."

"I indeed have been there." Severus growled, once again remembering this particular night, only this time not feeling out of place but knowing that he had been present at his son's birth. He had been there when his son had been born, had been given life. He had …

Pictures flared through his mind for a moment.

He was cradling a small body in a blanket to his chest …

He was placing the same small bundle into Lily's arms …

He was wiping his hands on a towel, watching mother and child from the doorway …

Closing his eyes he willed the pictures to go away and to concentrate onto the woman that stood in front of him, Minerva McGonagall, the deputy headmistress, and one of the few real friends he had.

"I have been there, the night Harry had been born." He said, opening his eyes and taking a sip of the whiskey. "I have been at Lily's side, assisting in the birth, not Potter. Potter had been out with Black and when he came home the next day I told him he had become a father, I told him he had a son now. He only looked at me as if he were about to attack me and then he turned and left. He was gone for three days then and I did not dare to leave Lily alone with the newborn child so I stayed with her while her husband has been gone."

"You really have been present at Harry's birth?" Minerva asked, nearly shocked again and it was clear that she had not known. Probably Potter had played the caring husband in front of the order. Severus only nodded.

"And you have assisted in the boy's birth?" The woman inquired, her voice still shocked. Again he simply nodded while again remembering. This boy truly was his son. Not only by adoption but by blood. And he even had been there when he had been born. He had been present at his own son's birth.

"And you stayed with Lily and her baby afterwards? When James hadn't been there for them?" Minerva now took the bottle from the table and poured herself half a glass of the whiskey, seemingly needing the strong liquid right now to overcome her shock. A third time he simply nodded.

"I can't believe it." She sighed, shaking her head. "James always seemed so caring about his family, about Lily and Harry. During each order meeting he always told news about the boy. When he made his first steps and when he spoke his first words."

"Believe it or not, Minerva." Severus huffed. "But it is true. And for Potter being present at Harry's first steps or words, that is complete nonsense. Do you want to know about Harry's first steps? I have been sitting on the sofa and Harry had been standing beside the armchair Lily had been sitting in. And suddenly the boy had released the armrest of the armchair and had made a step towards the table. He had dragged himself along the tableside and then he had released that too and had taken the few steps towards the sofa I had been sitting on until he had reached me. _That_ had been Harry's first steps. And I had felt bad because I have been so proud at the boy then, thinking that I should not feel that way as I was not his father but James." He took a sip of the whiskey before he tossed the tumbler against the far wall, waving his hand at the door to Harry's room to install a silencing spell just in time before the tumbler hit the wall and broke with a shattering sound, glass and gold colored liquid spilling everywhere.

"But now I know I had every right to feel proud back then as I indeed _had been_ his father, even if I didn't know it. I have been his father and I have been there." He said, taking the glass Minerva was reaching him and throwing it at the wall too where it accompanied the first one. Only she had emptied it first.

"I have been there during his birth. And I have been there for his first steps." He continued his rant. "For his first words. I have been there whenever James was not, what was quite often. I have been there to show him how to count and … and … damn!" He was about to grab the bottle of whiskey to throw this one too but Minerva was quicker than him and took it, held it away from him and instead reached him one of the cups they had used for tea earlier.

Well, the cup shattered at the wall too, but it didn't make such a pleasant sound as the tumblers had been making. The tumblers had been sounding rather sharp and clanking whereas the cup sounded like a dull thud. No, it wasn't as pleasant and he would like to know what the bottle would sound like but Minerva was protecting it from him like a hawk and right now held the second cup towards him, the one he had been drinking his tea from.

He simply took it and threw it. It was better than throwing nothing at all right now.

He was angry, and he was angry beyond reason. He was angry at Albus for what he had done, for keeping his son from him and for placing his son with abusive relatives. And he was angry at himself for being so stupid and to not realize that Harry indeed had been his son, back then, for waiting too long until getting them out of the house and to his own home. He was angry at Potter for being such a jackass and for neglecting his wife and his son. He was angry at the minister for arresting him and thus setting Harry's recovery back. And not to mention he was angry at the situation itself.

He was even angry at Harry for a moment for being such a small and weak child that was so much in need of him, that depended so much onto him, for needing him so deeply, for trusting him so much, before he took a calming breath and closed his eyes. Harry was the last one he should feel angry at. This child has done nothing to deserve his anger. This child was the victim and not the committer.

"Feeling better now?" Minerva's sarcastic voice brought him out of his thoughts while he leaned heavily onto the backrest of the armchair again. Well, actually yes, he felt better now, after venting off his anger. He still was angry, but he definitely felt better.

"Indeed." He said, giving a glare before he got two new tumblers.

"Oh no, dear Severus." Minerva growled, not giving the bottle free. "I'll drink from the bottle if I have to but I won't trust you with this bottle right now. Give me your tumbler and I will pour you some of it. Honestly, your temper is worse than that of a red haired Irishman that is a Capricorn at the same time. And after that you will go to bed, I will wake you if Harry wakes."

"Actually I _am_ a Capricorn, woman, and actually my mother _had_ come from Ireland." Severus growled, causing Minerva to gasp at him and she murmured something under her breath that sounded close to 'no wonder' and 'I should have known' before she reached a new tumbler with two fingers of whiskey towards him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Sighing tiredly he laid down in his bedchamber. He had known that he would have little sleep the moment he had signed and sealed the apprenticeship to become a Potions Master so many years ago and then again the moment he had become head of Slytherin house at a boarding school. One simply could not sleep while having to deal with a house full of abused children and homesick first years. And a Potions Master simply could not sleep while having a complicated potion brewed and he had been sitting many of a long night beside a bed with a student of him or beside a cauldron, monitoring the potion within until it was stable and could be left alone.

One of the reasons there were not many Potions Masters in the first place. Besides of the fact that – just as he told his first years each year – most did not appreciate the beauty of a simmering cauldron nor did they have the patience that would be necessary to brew a correct potion – or the hard work it took to become one. It wasn't just about tossing ingredients into a cauldron. It took years of study the subjects herbology, zoology, potions and healing, and it took a lot of care and concentration – not to mention some talent and hard work – to make it as a Potions Master. There simply was only a small difference between a potion and a poison.

There actually were three levels a Potions Master could reach.

The first one was the ground level gained when becoming a simple Potions Master. They only were allowed to brew each authorized potion that stood not under the ministry controlled substances legislation. They only had to fulfil an outstanding in their NEWTs and then they had to study herbology and zoology, each for the duration of a year, the arts of healing at St. Mungos for two years and after that they could study potions for three years under any common Potions Master. After that they were allowed to brew every potion that was approved by the ministry of magic.

Then there was a Potions Master level two and one only could reach this level after having gained level one. After that he had to study the healing arts for two more years, outside of Europe. He had to study potions under a Potions Master with the level two for another three years and he also had to invent at least one potion before gaining his mastery level two and after that he was allowed to brew any potions, even those that were forbidden and controlled by the ministry. And he was allowed to invent any potions he wanted.

One could become a Potions Master by the ministry or by the guild and most chose the first one as the ministry mastery was a bit easier to gain. But as soon as one became a Potions Master level two – or even level three – he automatically was registered by the guild. And becoming a Potions Master level three, one only could manage this by taking an apprentice.

And thus he never would gain level three as he simply didn't intent to take an apprentice anytime soon. He had his level two and he had been registered by the guild from the beginning on. He had chosen the more difficult but the far older way, the way that was respected all over the world by the Potions Masters, the way that even stood above the ministry of magic.

He had not studied potions in the small classes of three to five apprentices at the ministry that were taught by a ministry Potions Master but he had been taught by a Master that had taken only him like the guild demanded. He had been living with this Potions Master, he had brewed at his side and he had travelled with him. And just like the guild demanded he had not only been taught in potions by his Master but in everything that was needed for being a Master by himself, even such things as duelling and social etiquettes. The Master simply handed all his knowledge down to his apprentice.

If following the rules of the guild, then the Master and the apprentice simply formed a bond, the apprentice respecting his Master, following his rules and giving his best in his studies and the Master teaching his apprentice, keeping him safe and taking care of him in all matters of live.

And taking an apprentice by himself –

Sometimes he had considered it, sometimes when he had taught a student that showed the necessary talent, the required patience and will to work hard, the needed intuition. Even sometimes when he felt that something in his life was missing. But then – no, he simply was not the type to take an apprentice. He simply was a dark and tough man and he simply was a man that lived a far too dangerous life. He never would have been able to ensure the safety of an apprentice.

But now he simply would have to be able to ensure someone's safety. He would have to be able to ensure Harry's safety. He would have to be able to ensure his son's safety.

Drifting off to sleep he wondered if Harry would consider becoming a Potions Master one day. The boy already now had the patience, the will to work hard and the talent, the intuition to lose himself in a potion. And to find himself anew in it. Not to mention the talent to dare and step from the given receipt and try to experiment. He already now knew the difference between the science and the art. He would be able to invent new potions one day.

Yes, Harry would make a fine apprentice.

The boy would make every master proud of him.

He would be happy to take his son as an apprentice.

Maybe.

One day.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_How will Severus react now to all that had happened__?_

_And will Harry recover anytime soon from his last hurts?_

_How will Albus react to the accusations Severus brings forth towards him?_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would be grateful if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	39. back, but still gone

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well ? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now ?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Öhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Yes, Harry would make a fine apprentice. _

_The boy would make every master proud of him._

_He would be happy to take his son as an apprentice. _

_Maybe._

_One day._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter thirty-nine**

**Back, but still gone**

He was sitting beside the bed in his son's room, watching the boy in his sleep and his thoughts went astray into different directions, but the one thought that never left completely and that astonished him the most was – he was a father, and Harry was his son.

Harry was his and Lily's son. _His_, and _hers_, borne of their love, born of their compassion and born of their understanding.

He had been this boy's father all the time.

Or this boy had been his son all the time.

Was it really important which way round? He guessed not. If he just …

He always had known that James only had wanted to own Lily, that he never had loved her. But he also had known that at some point during the months something had been going wrong and he'd had a feeling that this something, whatever it had been, had been going _badly_ wrong.

During one October afternon while he had been visiting her and Lily seemed to be more than just sad he had asked her about it and she had broken down and cried on his shoulder. About how James bad been an idiot, causing him to snort and to tell her that he had known _that_ one. She even had laughed at his sarcastic comment.

But then she had broken down crying again and before he had known what had been happening she had told him about how James behaved when they were alone, about how James handled her when no one was around aside from Black who had moved into the house as it had seemed. Well, it was easier to move in with a friend than to look for an own life.

He had watched the situation closer after this conversation with Lily, had visited more often, not really caring if James had been at home or not, and he had watched the boy closer too, searching for any signs that James might have been going against the boy as well. Lily had said he had not, and Lily never had hinted anything that would prove that James was actually hurting her. But he had known Lily and he had known she would hide any hints from him. The boy, just about a year old, wouldn't even have been able to hide anything.

Well, he didn't have had to wait long. One evening he had entered the house stumbling over a situation where James actually had raised his hand against Lily and he had gone between. James had left after that and he, Severus, had promised Lily that he would get her out. He had told her to pack and he had told her that he would come back later in the evening after preparing a room for them, that he would come back later to get her and Harry's things before he would get the both of them and bring them to Prince Manor.

For a moment Lily had protested, had said she was James' wife and it wasn't right to leave him, but he had been persistent and he had been successful. When he had been back in the evening, just two hours later, he had found a small Harry, looking at one of his picture books, while Lily had been busy packing.

Had he only taken the both of them out after dinner directly instead of waiting until James was back so Lily would not feel like abandoning him without giving him a reason as to why she left.

Lily would be still alive and Harry never would have been living with his abusive relatives. Lily would be still alive and Harry wouldn't be as damaged as he was now.

Sighing tiredly he ran his hand over his face and continued watching the boy.

Harry had been sleeping through the remainder of the day and now through nearly the entire night, what alone was prove enough to him how worn out and how exhausted he had been. Well, he had seen it the moment he had seen the boy, sitting in front of the fire, his eyes glued to the fireplace, rocking back and forth with worry, tired, exhausted, and frightened, not responding to him in any way, not even to the cold cloth he had wiped his face with, he had tried to get him awake and alert with.

Damn the minister for his stupid actions and arresting him even if he had been cleared of all charges years ago. The minister had not known what he had done to the boy with his actions.

**Flashback**

_He was sitting there, still at the chair in the middle of courtroom ten and Amelia Bones had just announced that he was cleared again and that he was free. He felt the metal bands release him, but he didn't realize that they really were gone, his only thoughts swirling around the fact that he wouldn't face Azkaban and that he was still able to look after Harry, even if he wouldn't be able to adopt him, he was free to go as it seemed, he would be able to return to Hogwarts and thus he would be able to care for the boy. _

_Right now, nothing else mattered._

_He had wished for this to finally end. It had been just too much uncertainty._

_Of course he had received an acknowledgement of receipt after he had owled the papers to child services, but since then there had been no news for a long time. Albus had said that he had been contacted and that everything was running smoothly. But Severus had had a bad feeling about it and he had been waiting for the ax to fall._

_But more than three weeks had passed until Elsa Harvest had contacted him and the woman had visited them at Hogwarts._

**End flashback**

He had been a wrack, nervous to no end. Not only because of the chaos that had been displayed one by one, but also because he had been anxious to get back to the boy. Damn, Harry had been witnessing how he had been arrested and he only could imagine what had been taken place afterwards.

He barely had been able to concentrate onto Amelia Bones' words.

**Flashback**

_"Furthermore." Bones continued and he really had to force himself now to concentrate onto her words. "I hereby decide that we have seen, heard and read enough to not only allow Professor Severus Snape to stay in full care of Mr. Harry James Potter, but that the Professor will be allowed to adopt said child immediately. Any further hearings in this matter will be __cancelled and the papers will be signed at this moment."_

_Blinking and trying to grasp his mind around the spoken words he barely registered what they meant._

_Harry was his. _

_Harry was his son._

_His son!_

_Finally running his hand over his face, still not registering that he was free to move, that the metal bands that had been holding him actually were gone, he blinked again._

_He was a father._

_He was a father now._

_Harry's father!_

_Had it really been that easy? No heart to heart talks? Just this?_

_Where were his calming draughts when he needed them? And right now he definitely DID need one._

_He was a father._

_And Harry was his son._

**End flashback**

Bending over to run his fingers over the boy's forehead he stroke some loose strands of black hair out of the pale face.

Harry really and truly was his son. Had been his son all the time.

A soft knock on the entrance door to his quarters got him out of his thoughts and after ensuring that the small body of his child was covered tightly with the two blankets so he wouldn't freeze he got to his feet and left the boy's room, leaving the door open.

He crossed his living area and opened the front door, but immediately he froze in his movements when his eyes fell upon the headmaster who stood outside, looking for all the world guilty and miserable, this damn twinkling in those blue eyes of his gone for once.

"Headmaster." He said, not able to keep the coldness and the anger he felt out of his voice and if he was honest with himself, then he didn't even try to.

"Severus." Albus greeted back before extending his hands, both palms turned upwards, asking for entrance, asking for forgiveness maybe.

Stepping aside and allowing the headmaster to step inside he closed the door behind the man and threw a quick silencing spell towards his son's room, a one sided silencing spell. The boy wouldn't be able to hear their conversation that surely wouldn't be one for the child to hear, but he would hear if his son were in distress and needed his comfort. He however refused to offer a seat to the man, kept standing by himself, his stance stiff and rigid, his shoulders drawn back and his hands held behind his back, his head held high. He watched the headmaster with harsh, dark eyes, refusing to start the conversation.

"Severus." The headmaster said, his voice sad and worried. "I am sorry, Severus. I am truly sorry, Severus."

"What exactly are you sorry for, headmaster?" The Potions Master asked, lifting his eyebrow in a cold manner at the older wizard.

Sighing Albus ran his hand over his face before he answered.

"I'm sorry that I haven't been able to keep you from getting arrested yet again." Albus said. "I am sorry that this all had been happening yet again, and that I was late at the trial. I should have heard earlier of your hearing being changed into a trial. But there is more, Severus."

Not giving an answer Severus only waited, watching the older wizard who sighed before continuing.

"There is something you do not know, Severus." Albus began, his voice nearly broken now. "There is something I have to tell you, my boy."

For a moment Severus was close to hiss at the headmaster that he was not his boy and that he already knew that Harry was indeed truly and by blood his son and always had been. But he kept his indifferent mask, not even gritting his teeth and standing unmoving he waited for the headmaster to continue.

"Harry … the boy is your son, Severus." Albus sighed. "I do know that you have adopted him, but that would not have been necessary. Harry always has been your son. Lily … she already had been pregnant when she had married James. She had been pregnant with Harry, with your son. Only a few days into her pregnancy, but James had not been the one who had sired Harry. You have been the one. I am sorry that I kept this from you."

"You are sorry!" Severus finally hissed, not ably to keep his rage and his fury at bay for any longer. He thought he might explode if he just tried. "_You_ – are sorry! _You are sorry_ for a life of abuse you have bestowed over my son! _You are sorry_ for ten years of cruel beatings that caused not only layers over layers of scars but broken bones and internal injuries as well to a point where my son never will recover completely! _You are sorry_ for ten years of starvation to a point where the child was only a shadow of himself, barely alive anymore and where he actually had to relearn eating! _You are sorry_ for condemning my son to years of rape from an abominable and obese muggle you have placed him with! And _you are sorry_ for a future life where the boy will have to struggle with all the after effects like nightmares, eating disorders, social fears, abandonment issues and remaining physical pains and trouble and disabilities, with remaining physical exercices to keep his body able to work at all! _You are sorry_! Don't you dare to say you are sorry, headmaster! You have no right to be sorry!"

He turned away from the man, not sure he wouldn't attack him if he had to face him any longer.

"Go!" He simply said.

Albus Dumbledore stood there, not sure what to do. It wasn't the first time that Severus was angry with him. But it was the first time that he was so fury with him. And the fact that the young man had all right to be did nothing to ease his misery. But what was the worst, it was the first time that Severus ordered him to leave and he knew, if he now left, then he would never ever again been able to enter this young man's quarters. He had lost Severus.

"Severus, I …" He began and for once he looked even older than he actually was but he was interrupted by the Potions Master.

"Do not even try it, headmaster." Severus said, his voice sad and silent now, hurt and disappointed. "I already did know that Harry is my son not only by adoption. I already have brewed a paternal potion to be sure and I already have tested Harry's and my blood." He turned back towards the headmaster who had gone pale and he watched the older wizard with sad dark eyes, all his fury gone now and hurt, despair and disappointment the only emotions left in them.

"I have done all you ever asked of me, Albus." He finally continued. "Always, never mind what it had been. And I have counted you amongst my few friends. I have trusted you." He paused a moment before he straightened himself and his eyes became harsh once again.

"I cannot trust you any longer, headmaster." He finally continued. "You have disappointed and hurt me more than you ever can imagine. I do not even have to ask you why you did this, because I already do know your reasons. Know however, that I will leave with my son as soon as he has recovered from this newest blow. I won't allow you using my son as a weapon in your war and I won't allow my son being subject to more blows than the latest one. My son has to recover and he cannot do so if he is under your influence. And now I ask you once again to leave, headmaster."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He was back in his cupboard, he knew it.

He had gotten the Professor arrested and now there was no one who would care for him. And even if the Professor were free now, he surely wouldn't want to care for him any longer. Not after he had gotten him arrested. It was his fault and his alone. And surely the wizarding world had brought him back to his relatives, and his relatives had thrown him back into the cupboard.

Pulling his knees close to his chest and encircling them with his arms he tried to get warm, he tried to get some comfort, but it was to no avail, as always.

Why had he started to depend on his Professor so much? Why had he started to need his Professor so much? Why had he started to trust his Professor so much? Why had he started to see his Professor as a father? Why had he started to love his Professor so much? Why had he …

It was all his fault and his alone.

Unable to stop the sob that threatened to escape his throat he began to cry, trying to keep as silent as possible, to stifle his sobs in his arms and knees so his uncle would not hear him. He would be in the greatest trouble ever if his uncle heard him crying. It would be his first beating he would get upon being back at the Dursleys.

For a brief moment he wondered why he had not been beaten immediately after arriving back here. Maybe uncle Vernon had been at work. Well, whatever the reason had been, the beatings would start soon enough again. As soon as uncle Vernon would come home and find him here. And sobbing no less. They would come.

Severus still stood in the middle of his living room, still trying to get his emotions back under control after the headmaster had left. Now that he had told the headmaster, had told someone, _how_ hurt he was, he felt the hurt just the more, felt the hurt nearly suffocating him, washing over him in waves and steeling his breath away.

He had missed so much in his live. And Harry had even missed so much more in his short live. They …

Soft sobbing reached his ears and he didn't even need a moment to recognize the sound or to know who had made it and quickly he turned and entered the room that once had been his guest chamber and now was his son's nursery.

His gaze fell onto the bed and his heart nearly stopped when he found the bed empty and the child gone, the sobbing still reaching his ears and for a moment he was close to a panic attack. His son needed him but the boy wasn't here, he didn't know where his child was. He looked around the room frantically, searching under the bed and in the corners, knowing that the boy had learned to be a master in blending in into his surroundings in order to be unseen and avoiding cruel punishments and beatings.

But then he forced himself to take a deep breath and to calm his strained nerves and he listened closely. Following the soft sobbing he reached the boy's cupboard and sighing knowingly he slowly opened the door, his gaze falling onto the small huddled form that was sitting at the ground in a corner, his knees drawn and hugged tightly to his chest in an attempt to comfort himself.

"Hush, child." He whispered and with shaking hands which had been steady for years he took the boy's shoulders and slowly pulled the child into his arms. "Hush, child. You are safe, and you are at home. You are not with the Dursleys but at Hogwarts and with me, Professor Snape, your father. It is over."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry felt hands on his shoulders and even if he knew this hands, the gentle grip for a moment he knew that it was impossible. His Professor had been arrested. His Professor was not here. And even if he were here, then he surely wouldn't comfort him but he would throw him out immediately for getting him arrested. No, it wasn't possible. He was back at the Dursleys and he was back in his cupboard and surely his uncle was back from work and his aunt had told him that the freak was back.

He did the only thing he instinctively could think of right now and tried to struggle away from the grip, tried to curl into an as small ball as possible to protect his face, his head and his stomach, knowing how much it would hurt what came next.

He heard a soft voice telling him that he was at home, telling him that it was over and he knew this voice for a moment too. But again, it wasn't possible. The Professor couldn't be at the Dursleys. The Professor was arrested. And the Professor wouldn't comfort him, not after what he had done.

And well, yes. He had known that he was back at home, even if he didn't think of Privet Drive as his home. Hogwarts was his home but not Privet Drive. And yes he knew that it was over too. He always had known that it wouldn't last. He always had known that all good things ended eventually, sooner or later and in his case it always was rather sooner than later. He had known.

If it only hadn't been so soon.

Severus felt the boy struggle in his grip when he took hold of the still so thin shoulders and pulled his son out of the cupboard and into his arms, felt the panic welling up in the child and he wished he would be able to take all the hurt away from his son.

His son!

"Hush, child." He whispered pulling his son with shaking hands into his arms, pulling the small but desperately struggling child against his chest in a gentle but firm and secure embrace. "Hush, child. You are safe, and you are at home. You are not with the Dursleys but at Hogwarts and with me, Professor Snape, your father. It is over."

'_Know however, that I will leave with my son as soon as he has recovered from this newest blow.'_

But maybe it wouldn't do any good for the boy if he took him away from this safe place, from the surroundings that he had gotten used to, that he had started to see as his safe haven, as his home. Maybe it would be a mistake to take this place away from the boy now. Maybe he just should stay here with his son and to try and keep him as safe from Albus as possible.

It was over at least. It finally was over and harry was officially his son. And not only by adoption, but by blood as well.

But would he be able to keep the boy safe from Albus' interfering ways? Would the boy really be safe here at Hogwarts?

"It is over, child." He repeated. "You officially are my son. By adoption and by blood and no one will be able to take you away from me now. You are safe and you always will be safe. You are my son and nothing will be able to change that. I am your father and no one will be able to change that. You truly are safe."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Slowly calming down Harry began to recognize the scent of lavender, of tangerine and of coriander and slowly he began to understand that the hands that were holding him were not his uncle's hands that always hurt him but his Professor's hands who always comforted him. He was not at home at the Dursleys but at home at Hogwarts and the voice didn't scream at him but spoke silently and calmed him.

He truly was at home. And the one holding him was truly his Professor.

Giving in to his needs and giving a deep sigh away he relaxed against the man's chest, listening to the deep rumble of the Professor's voice in his chest underneath his ears while the Professor spoke, listening to the strong heartbeat underneath his ears. He was at home and his Professor tried to comfort him even after what he had done.

He wasn't able to keep his sobs and his tears silent and under – some – control anymore at that thought but turned his face into the black fabric of the man's cloak, clinging to him desperately. Alone the thought that his Professor comforted him even if he didn't deserve it anymore hurt more than anything else. The man even comforted him if he was disappointed in him. It definitely was too much for him.

Distantly he heard something about being a son, something about being safe and something about his father, but he was too far gone to really recognize all the words the Professor was whispering and he was too deep in his emotional pain to even understand what those words meant.

"It is over, child." Severus said, the shaking of his voice matching the shaking of his fingers while trying to calm the boy's struggling and feeling relief washing over him when the boy finally calmed down and went still in his arms. "You officially are my son. By adoption and by blood and no one will be able to take you away from me now. You are safe and you always will be safe. You are my son and nothing will be able to change that. I am your father and no one will be able to change that. You truly are safe."

He paused and began to card through Harry's hair with gentle fingers when the boy was calm, when the child allowed him to press his head against his chest. "I need you, Harry." He then whispered. "Before you came, my life was dark and cold and empty. But then you came into my life, and you have given me so much." Leaning with his back against the cupboard and pulling the boy with him until he actually lay in his arms he leaned his chin atop the unruly black hair that reached the boy's shoulders.

"Maybe you do not even recognize how much or what you have given me, child, but you indeed have and I can not be prouder to have you as my son."

He felt a slight shaking of the boy's head and he closed his eyes in relief. His son responded to him. And he didn't respond with a panic attack but with a simple shaking of his head. They would be able to deal with the rest.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Dimly the words registered in his mind, that his Professor had said he was his father now and startled at the thought he shook his head. That couldn't be. He had gotten the Professor arrested and he couldn't have him as a father now. He didn't deserve it!

But maybe Professor Snape had not understood what he had done? Maybe Professor Snape didn't know that he had been arrested because of him? Maybe …

"You can't." He signed, finally understanding the Professor's words and forcing himself to use his hands to do so, never mind how tired he was and never mind how much he just wanted to remain in those arms, never mind how much he needed those arms and never mind how much it hurt him to admit this all. The man simply had to know before he found out by himself. "I don't deserve it! It's all my fault!"

Again he had to suppress a sob, again he had to force his tears back. He didn't want to lose this, he didn't want to lose the man. He had a father now since only a few hours and so soon he had to lose him. He didn't want this. But it was better that way. The Professor would be livid if he found out later by himself.

The Professor's hand on his forehead, the hand that pressed his head against the man's chest, felt like bliss, felt calming and felt safe, but he wasn't allowed … it couldn't be …

"Hush, child." Severus said, not really understanding the boy's signs. Why should the boy not deserve it? What did the boy mean what was his fault? "You do deserve this, Harry." He said, trying to reassure the boy. "You do deserve this as much as does any other child. And you have done nothing wrong. You are my son now, and nothing can change that."

"But you don't know what I have done!" Harry signed with shaking hands, his movements slow, tired and sluggish, clearly showing that the sleep he'd had, had done little.

"Well, then what exactly is it, you have done, child?" Severus asked, still at a loss.

"I have gotten you into prison." His son answered and quickly he took the boy's hands into his own to stop them. To all the things the boy already blamed himself he didn't need him to take this blame upon him as well.

"You have not, Harry!" He said, his voice as stern as he dared without frightening the already upset child. "The minister of magic did, but not you. You did absolutely nothing wrong. No!" He sternly added when the boy tried to get his hands out of his own to – most likely – give words of contradiction and he increased the grip he had on the small hands.

"No, Harry!" He repeated. "I do know that you think without you I would not have been arrested in the first place. But this line of thinking is incorrect. I do know that you think you do not deserve to have someone caring for you, not to mention having a father. But this line of thinking is incorrect too. You do deserve having a father, maybe even more than anyone else, aside from the fact that you of all people need one. And I have not been arrested because I wanted to adopt you, but because the minister wanted me arrested in the first place. Something he wanted since a very long time, since longer than you have come to Hogwarts. This is not your fault, child and I do not want you to think this way. Is that understood?" He asked, grabbing the boy's shoulders and holding him at arm length away so he could look at him, piercing the boy with a stern gaze.

"You promise?" His son asked unsurely and he nodded.

"Yes, I do promise, Harry." He said. "Neither are you at fault of what has happened the past two days, nor are you to abandon the idea of having a father because you blame yourself where there is no blame to be laid upon anyone aside from the minister. You did nothing wrong and you do deserve to have a father. And I am proud to have a child like you as my son. And nothing and no one can change that. You are my son by adoption and by blood."

Well, if he had thought that the boy had cried himself out earlier, then he had been wrong, because with a sudden cry and fresh tears the boy latched himself onto him, clinging to his robes, to him, like a limpet and again he cried.

Running his arm around the boy's shoulder and pulling his son's head towards his chest with his other hand again he silently whispered what words of comfort came to his mind, knowing that it wasn't important what he said, as long as he spoke to the boy.

It wasn't long however that he noticed the boy's sobbing lessen and the hitched breathing even out. The boy had – once again – fallen asleep in his arms and smirking he gathered the boy into his arms and got him back into his room. He still didn't bother with a bath and he simply would spell a nutrient potion into the boy. Harry needed sleep right now and he wouldn't wake him now, even if he knew that the child should eat something.

Right now sleep was the best way to heal for Harry.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry weakly squirmed in his father's arms, feeling suddenly alarmed when he felt the Potions Master standing up, fearing that he would be left alone again and tiredly he shook his head and lifted his arms.

"Please, don't go." He signed, or at least tried to, not sure if he actually accomplished the task. "Stay with me? Please? Don't leave me."

"Hush, child." He heard Professor Snape's, his father's soft whisper and he thought that most likely he had made himself understood. However he had managed this. He was so tired, he had been sure that his signs hadn't been signs at all. "I won't leave you, child. I will be right beside your bed. I won't go anywhere."

He wanted to answer something, wanted to tell the man how frightened he felt, frightened that the Professor, his father, would leave him again, but feeling safe in the older wizard's arms right here and now and feeling too lethargic to actually move more than that and not caring that he surely was too old to be carried like that he rested his head back against the man, his eyes closed.

He dimly felt being placed back onto his bed and he felt the warmth of the blankets being tucked around his shoulders, felt the mattress dipping down when the Professor sat beside him and the gentle hand returned and smoothed over his forehead while the Professor's, his father's voice murmured words to him he didn't really understand. But he didn't really care about that, and he relaxed again.

The voice went on, but Harry had succumbed completely to sleep by now, feeling truly safe for the first time in what felt like forever.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The next morning came but both, Harry and Severus were sleeping long into the morning. The boy laying in his bed while the man had his back leaned against the headboard of his son's bed. The child having laid his head into the older wizard's lap sometimes during the early morning hours while the man had brought his hand up, lightly laying atop his son's black hair, sometimes unconsciously playing with the long strands in his sleep.

Harry felt like being in heaven.

He didn't know why the Professor still was there after all what he had done, after he had caused so much trouble for the older wizard and after he even had gotten him arrested. And he didn't understand it either _why_ the Professor still was there. But right now he didn't really worry about that. He only felt Professor Snape's hand on his head and he felt safe and peaceful.

Dimly he remembered last night when the Professor had told him that it all wasn't his fault, but that wasn't true. He didn't understand why the man didn't see it the same way. And he dimly remembered the Professor telling him that he had adopted him now, that he was his father now. And that too he didn't understand – how the man still could want this.

But nothing of this was important. Nothing of this did really matter. He was here and he was safe and he was peaceful. Somehow he just existed. He felt, yes, but what he felt had no meaning to him right now. He simply existed.

Severus slowly woke, noticing that he lay in his son's bed - again, leaning against the headboard and cradling the smaller body of the boy in his arms, relishing in the feeling of holding his son even if it was – well, no. It wasn't a really foreign feeling. He had done so in the past few weeks, holding the boy in his arms or waking up half laying, half sitting on the boy's bed with the smaller body sleeping in his arms. It wasn't the first time.

But it was the first time that he really recognized what it meant. This boy was his son. And he truly felt something for the boy, cared for him, had done so for weeks now and he wondered what had happened. He was no one who felt anything for anyone. A few weeks ago he never would have dreamed of cradling a firsty to his chest. A few weeks ago he had been sure that each and every firsty would run from him as quickly as their legs could carry them.

But not this boy.

Harry had feared him in the beginning, yes. And he was sure the boy did so even now, yes. But that was different. The boy feared him because he feared every human being, because he had learned from earliest childhood on that each and every human being would cause nothing than pain to him, that each and every human being was to be feared.

He opened his eyes when he noticed that his son was awake and he ran his hand over the boy's forehead, smoothing strands of hair out of the young face. Harry was staring ahead of him, deep in his own thoughts as it seemed and he would give a small fortune if he just knew _what _the boy was thinking.

"Harry?" He asked, trying to get the boy's attention. They should get up and he would try to get something else than those blasted potions into his son's stomach. The boy had missed too many real meals the past two days and he would see that the boy was eating properly again, hoping that he would not have to catch up too much again.

But the boy in his arms didn't answer, didn't move, didn't hear him.

"Harry?" He asked again, a bit louder this time, sitting up and peering down into the boy's face. But again there was no answer, no sign and no stir.

Furrowing his brows worriedly Severus ran his hands around the boy's shoulders and shoved him up, into a sitting position while at the same time he turned him so he could look into his son's eyes. What only caused him to give another worried sigh. Reaching up his hand and placing his palm onto his son's cheek his dark eyes searched the green ones for any signs of recognition, of response, of life, but there were none. They were slightly darker, soft, but far away.

"Well, let's get you into a bath." He said, knowing that a shower was out of question right now, knowing that it was him who had to take things into hands and knowing that Harry simply was back to where he had been the day before. Far away or deep within himself, and he knew that he just would have to wait. He wouldn't be able to force the boy back, not without doing more harm than good at least.

"You know, child, you have missed a bath last night, and I am sure that it would help you to relax." He said, just to have said anything at all, not caring what it was he was saying. "And then I guess something to eat will be in order. You have missed some meals too the past days, if I am correct."

Lifting Harry into his arms he simply carried him into the bathroom and while he got the warm water running into the tub he undressed the boy, noticing that this time Harry didn't blush, didn't flinch, didn't respond in any way to him, Severus, undressing him. It was another reason for him to worry even more as the boy normally was more than just uncomfortable with being undressed by him.

But not this time.

The boy simply didn't notice it.

He settled Harry into the bathtub and just started washing the child, running the wash cloth over the boy's back that was healed finally but horribly scarred and just like so often he had to grit his teeth at the sight.

"I hope the temperature is to your liking, it is the same it always is." He said, watching the boy close, waiting for an answer of any kind. "I added lavender to the bath as I have noticed you always liked this one. And I guess it will help you to feel more comfortable. Do you feel comfortable?" He then asked, hoping for an answer. Well, of course he got no answer and he should have known. Sighing a sad sigh he continued washing the boy that had become his son, while simply keeping up a stream of words.

He really shouldn't wonder about the boy's lack of response. The child had been through simply too much in his short life and now this newest blow, nearly losing the man he had seen as his father and blaming himself for it too. Placing his finger's underneath his son's chin and lifting the child's head he again pierced the tired green eyes with his dark ones before he gently ran the washcloth over the still pale face.

"You do know, that I got strangely used to having you and your constantly moving hands around." He continued to speak to his son sitting in the bath. "And this stillness of your hands now, it is just unnerving. I am sure you could give me a few small signs if you wanted to, but that you simply want to annoy me."

If nothing else would help, then he still could use another form of legillimens. He doubted that the boy right now would fight him, that he even would recognize him entering his mind. But if he could find the boy in there, then he would be able to lead him out, to lead him back. But he would wait before he would take such a step that was dangerous anyway. He simply had to wait if his son would make it back by himself. He at least had to give the boy a chance to find his way back by his own.

"Well, it won't work, Harry." He said. "Because you are my son and you cannot change that. I won't abandon you, never mind what. Listen close, child, you haven't been able to use your signs when you first came to Hogwarts. And you haven't been able to write either. And you as well as I have thought the situation impossible to handle back then. But we have found a way. Well, now we have a problem once again, as it seems. But I promise you, we will deal with this and we will find a way once more."

He finished washing the boy, glad that at least his body responded in a normal way so he did not have to keep the boy upright and from drowning in the bathtub. His son simply was sitting in the bathtub and he didn't know if the child even recognized being washed by him, being in the bath in the first place. But he did sit there by his own strength.

"If I only knew what is going on in this head of yours." He quietly said and slowly he extended his hand and gently he ran his fingertips over the boy's forehead, brushing away some loose strands of the black hair, out of Harry's face, before he tilted his son's head back to wash Harry's hair. Maybe if the water touched his face, he would find his way back, being startled maybe, but back to life.

For a moment he wondered why Harry was so far away again in the first place. He had been responding during the late night hours, he had even used his signs, he had been here, alive, responding. What had set the boy back?

"Let's get this hair of yours washed so we can get some breakfast into you." He said. "I won't have you sitting at the table looking like a Neanderthal."

He ran the water over the boy's hair, carding his fingers through the dripping strands, his mind still reeling, running a mile per minute, trying to find an answer. Had Harry had a nightmare last night after they both had fallen asleep? It could have been possible. He took another washcloth and placed it over the boy's eyes.

"Hold the washcloth over your eyes so no shampoo will get into them while I wash your hair." He said, at the same time taking one of Harry's hands and placing it over the washcloth and to his great surprise the boy really held his hand there. Well, maybe not everything was lost, he thought while massaging the shampoo in before his thoughts went back to what might have happened.

Maybe it had been a nightmare, but he had not been awakened by one. Normally he woke from the boy's silent sobbing, from his screams or simply from his restless movements. It had not happened last night.

But then what had caused Harry to fall back into this kind of – shock? Or whatever it was? To retreat into his own mind? And to retreat into his own mind so deeply that he couldn't come back by his own? Could he even dare to wait and give his son a chance to come back by his own? Or should he hurry to go and search for him in his mind? To get him back? What was more risky?

He rinsed the shampoo out of Harry's hair before he gently pulled the boy's hand form where he still held the washcloth to his eyes, still talking to Harry, still telling him what to do, and then pulled him up and lifted him out of the tube, wrapped the still so fragile form into a warm towel. Drying the boy's hair he still tried to find an answer to his dilemma.

If he went into Harry's mind in search for the place where the boy were hiding from all his fears and insecurities, then it meant that he robbed his son the chance to get a way back by himself. And his son needed every step he could do by himself, needed this encouragement and the knowledge that he was able to do things by himself, and that _that _what he did were the right things, that he was not dependant on others with everything. Harry needed to know that he was allowed to do things by his own. But most importantly, if he went in search for the boy, he could destroy Harry's mind.

It was one thing to go into the mind of an adult, but it was another thing to go into the mind of a child. The mind was a complex thing and it wasn't just about entering, searching for something and then leaving. With each time he entered a mind deeply enough to search the person within, he left marks there, he left a signature back that did not belong there.

It wouldn't be a problem if the mind were the organized mind of an adult, if the mind were a calm and peaceful mind to begin with. But a mind as young and as scarred as Harry's was wouldn't be able to deal with those marks and his signature added to what it had to deal with in the first place. It wasn't just legillimens where he scratched only on the surface and watching memories. Entering a mind in such a way was more, it was deeper and it was dangerous.

On the other hand, if he did nothing and just waited – well, the boy was calm and peaceful where he was right now. He could see that, the pale face relaxed and without the usual worry edged into the eyes. And he knew, most likely Harry would not want to leave this place. In other words, most likely the boy would not want to come back by his own. And the longer he lingered there, the more difficult it would become for him to leave, knowing that fear, pain and despair waited outside his safe haven, knowing that unwanted memories, self blaming and misery waited there.

"Well, let's get you dressed, Harry." Severus said, taking a set of fresh clothing from the chair where he had placed them earlier. "What would you like for your breakfast? Something light, as I am sure your stomach won't be able to deal with too much right now. Maybe a simple bowl of porridge with bananas? You always liked this one. Or maybe a soup and toast? Well, I would prefer porridge now and a soup later."

Dressing Harry, getting his legs into the trousers and his arms into the sleeves of his shirt was easy, and it was quite a foreign thing to do so without the boy flinching every now and then, without the boy being stiff with his usual wariness. But he did not like the circumstances under which the boy was so relaxed and without all those signs of fear.

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**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Will Severus be able to __get Harry back?_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you


	40. the Potions Master's son

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Dressing Harry, getting his legs into the trousers and his arms into the sleeves of his shirt was easy, and it was quite a foreign thing to do so without the boy flinching every now and then, without the boy being stiff with his usual wariness. But he did not like the circumstances under which the boy was so relaxed and without all those signs of fear. _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter forty**

**The Potions Master's son**

Harry still wondered what the Professor exactly meant with – he was his father.

Could it really be true? Could he really be that lucky?

And if, then what would it mean for him? Would the Professor handle him like uncle Vernon had handled Dudley? Uncle Vernon was Dudley's father after all. So, maybe every father would love his son.

He didn't know any other fathers - or sons for that part. He had lived his life at the Dursleys' house – or in his cupboard. He never had met other people, not much at least. There had been a doctor once when he had been very ill for some time, for a few weeks, it had been a friend of uncle Vernon. That at least had been what he had thought back then. He had been sure. And he had not liked this man. He had been as unkind and as uncaring as had been uncle Vernon.

But the worst part had been, that he'd had to pay the man afterwards.

He took a shuddering breath and shivered at the memory. It had been as frightening and as ugly and first of all it had been as painful as it had been whenever uncle Vernon did this to him. Again he shuddered.

"Are you cold, Harry?" He heard Professor Snape's low and deep voice and with nearly a sigh of relieve he tried to grasp at this voice, to grasp it and to pull himself along this voice and out of his memories, imagining this voice as a safe line that would make the difference between life and death. Well, literally spoken, he knew. But he also knew how deep the abyss was if he fell. He knew how dark his memories were if he fell and he knew how painful the impact were if he fell.

He simply knew he needed the Professor, Professor Snape. But he didn't know how to reach out to him, how to answer him. He didn't even know if the man really were there, if he really were back or if he just imagined it all. And he couldn't remember how he had reached out to the man before he had left.

He remembered that he had – well, talked – to the Professor last night. Or yesterday. Or this morning. He didn't know when exactly it had been. But again, he didn't know if he had really conversed with the Professor of if he just had imagined it. And he didn't remember how he had managed to do so.

His mind, his heart, his chest and his stomach too were just confused. And frightened. Frightened that maybe it wasn't true, that he maybe just imagined the older wizard being back, being here. Frightened that in truth he still was alone.

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Severus reached the spoon towards Harry's lips and the boy automatically opened his mouth to accept the soup Severus was feeding him with. In the beginning this morning, during breakfast, he'd had to tell him to open up his mouth quite a few times so he could feed him, but now the boy did so by himself.

He still didn't react otherwise than that, not much at least, but it was a beginning.

Before breakfast he had been more than worried. Well, yes – he had to admit that he still was worried, but he was worried in general about the state the boy was in. But before breakfast this morning he had been worried about not being able to even feed his son. He had been worried if he would be able to, if Harry would open up his mouth by himself or if he would have to force him to. Never before had he had such a situation at his hands after all.

Shaking his head he gave a sigh away.

Harry still didn't look at him consciously, just stared ahead of him, his eyes on him only if he, Severus, got his face in front of the boy. And even then he wasn't sure if his son actually noticed him there or not, if he actually recognized him.

Another spoon approached Harry's mouth, but this time the boy clamped his lips close.

"Oh, come, child." Severus said, lifting his eyebrow, nudging the boy's lips with the spoon. "You can't be finished already. You ate not even half of this bowl."

Again he tried to get Harry to open up his mouth, to eat more, but – just like during breakfast – Harry refused, kept his lips pressed tightly together.

"Well, then at least take this potion, Harry." He said, reaching a vial towards the boy's lips and dipping it, causing his son to drink. "It's the nutrient potion. You just need more than what you are eating right now."

The boy accepted the potion without a sign of rejection, not even shuddering at the taste of it.

"Would you like to visit the back yard?" Severus asked, knowing that he wouldn't get an answer from Harry. He had to try nevertheless and he knew that he would try until he would get a reaction from the boy one day. It nevertheless was more than just frustrating. Neither did he know what exactly had happened, nor did he know what he could do, and he even didn't know if Harry would recover eventually.

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But maybe it wasn't about being father and son. Maybe his uncle had been right and maybe he just was an unlovable freak. After all he always had done those freakish things.

Well, the Professor had said that he wasn't a freak, that he was a wizard, and that the things he had done never had been freakish things but his accidental magic that every young wizard had. And he had said that magic existed, that he even was supposed to do magic. And he had seen the Professor doing magic.

He had brewed a few potions by his own since he was here at Hogwarts and he had tried to do magic by himself too.

The breakthrough had been a few days ago, when he had been doing elementary magic. And he still remembered how proud Professor Snape had been at him back then. And he wanted to do more of this magic if it made the older wizard so proud of him.

Never before had someone been proud at him. But Professor Snape had been and it had felt good. Really good. His chest actually had been hurting from the swelling he had felt. But it had not been a bad hurt. It had been something good, something he wanted to feel more often. Something that he wanted to be repeated.

But maybe, when the Professor was his father, well – that would mean that he was his relative. Just as uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia were his relatives. And maybe his uncle had been right all those years. That no one could love him, that no one would be able to like him, that no one would want him, that he caused death and pain and misery to everyone. And maybe, as soon as the Professor was his father, then he would learn how unlovable he really was.

And then he would not be proud at him anymore, and he would not love him anymore. And then he would go back to hate him eventually. And, well – he knew _this_ feeling all too well, and he knew exactly what it meant too. People who hated you, hurt you.

He knew that the Professor had promised him that he never would beat him, that he never would hurt him, that he never would starve him, and that he never would lock him into a cupboard. He had even promised that he never would touch him in any inappropriate manner. Well, he didn't know what exactly this word meant, but he knew what Professor Snape meant with this. He knew that Professor Snape meant with this that he never would hurt him this way uncle Vernon had done sometimes.

So – all in all, yes. The Professor had promised all those things. But would he really not hurt him if he would be back to hating him? It wasn't easy to keep himself from hurting someone you hate. He knew it.

There had been some situations with the Dursleys, some situations when he would have liked to punch Dudley, to hurt the other boy like Dudley had hurt him, or simply to hurt him so he wouldn't be hurt _by_ him. But of course he had known that he would be in really great trouble if he did so, knew that he would be beaten to death by his uncle if he just laid a hand on Dudley. So he always had restrained himself from doing as he wanted to.

So, yes. He knew exactly how hard it was to restrain himself from giving in to his hate. And he wasn't sure if the Professor would be able to do so.

Well, the man always had proved to be a master when it came to restraining himself. He always kept his indifferent mask, even if he could see the man's emotions in his black eyes. And he always kept his indifferent stance, even if he could feel the emotions coming from the man's features. So – maybe …

But on the other hand …

He just didn't know.

He had the distinct feeling that someone had been giving him something to eat. He hadn't noticed and so he wasn't sure, but he felt uncomfortably full.

Concentrating onto the situation, trying to catch up with the reality, he felt something nudge his lips and automatically he pressed them close tightly. He already felt uncomfortable and he didn't want to get sick. He had been sick enough in his life and he never had liked it. It was ugly and it hurt.

For a moment he wanted to shake his head, to make himself understood, but again he didn't know how to do so, and again he wasn't even sure if it really was true or if he only imagined it like he imagined the conversation last night with Professor Snape, like he imagined the man talking to him.

For a moment he thought of the back yard Professor Snape had taken him to so often during the past weeks. He didn't know why he remembered the yard right now, but he did and it made him feel like smiling. If he just would remember how to.

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"Let us get your shoes on, Harry." Severus said, getting to his feet.

He summoned the boy's boots and turned the chair Harry was sitting on so the boy's feet were dangling in front of him. His feet still were too short to reach the floor and he nearly growled.

"It is a warm and sunny day out there, and it would be a shame if we wouldn't get you into the sun and fresh air for a bit." He said, loosening the boots' shoelaces so he could slip them onto his son's feet more easily. He knelt in front of the boy, not caring about his dignity, he had knelt before the boy earlier during the past weeks and he had knelt in front of others of his Slytherins during the years since he was the head of this house.

He slipped the left boot on the boy's foot, ensured that it was sitting comfortable and then pulled at the shoelaces and tied them into a bow tightly so the boy's ankle would be secured as good as possible. He didn't know how responsive Harry would be and he didn't want to take any chances. If the boy slipped out there, then he easily could break his ankle, fragile as they still were. Or at least he easily could twist it.

He wrapped Harry into one of his warmer cloaks and placing his hand on the boy's shoulder he led him out of his quarters, along the dungeon corridor and out into the back yard.

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Taking a deep breath he smelled fresh air and closing his eyes, turning his face upwards and to his left a bit he felt the warmth of the sun on his face, and again he wanted to smile, if he just would remember how.

So he simply allowed himself to be led by the man, for a moment knowing that he was there, that he wasn't alone and he allowed himself to lean a little more on his Professor's form, feeling surprising strength behind him. Inhaling deeply he breathed in the faint scent of the Potions Master, the faint scent of lavender, of coriander and of tangerine, the scent that always calmed him, that always made him feel safe.

He felt himself stumble and with a silent wince he braced himself for the impact when he would fall to the floor, but immediately he felt the hand that had led him on his shoulder up to now slip before fingers curled around both of his upper arms and then felt himself being steadied.

If it only would be true.

If it only would not be a dream.

If it only would not be an imagination.

He had felt shoes being slipped on his feet earlier. And he had thought how strange it was, because no one ever had slipped shoes on his feet. He had been bare feet back at the Dursleys, always. Well, if he didn't leave the house, like Dudley, then he didn't need shoes, now, did he? And he never had left the house. So the Dursleys never had bothered with getting him shoes.

Then this man had come and had taken him to Diagon Alley to get his things he needed for school.

He still remembered that the Dursleys had been really mad then. But they had feared the wizard who had told them that he had come directly from the ministry and that he was here to get him for the afternoon. So they had allowed him out.

Aunt Petunia had thrown some of Dudley's old trainers at him, had told him that he could have them. And he had stared at them, uncertainly, not knowing what to do with them, how to open the shoelaces and how to tie them afterwards. So he had tried to put them on without opening them at first. And as they had been too large for him, well, he hadn't had any troubles.

Well, it had been his best afternoon ever, being away from the Dursleys, away from doing all the chores, being away from the beatings. And seeing all those strange things too.

But in the evening he had gotten blisters as he had not been used to wearing shoes.

And in the evening he had gotten the worst beating ever from his uncle, for being such a freak and for going to a freak school. And his uncle had thrown him into the cellar, had threatened to burn his school things and had told him that he never would go to this school, that he would not hold with such nonsense.

But luckily he had told him a few days later that he would allow him to go to this school if he worked hard and got all rooms in the house clean, even the basement and the attic. If he cooked all meals correctly without burning anything and if he would get all the laundry done. Maybe aunt Petunia had talked to him, had told him that they would come back if he would not let him go to this school.

Well, it wasn't important why uncle Vernon had changed his mind, he had not burnt all his school things like he had threatened him to do and he even had given him one of Dudley's old backpacks, had told him he could have it as long as he left in September, but that he would not bring him to the station.

So Harry had worked for the next three weeks as much as he could, even if he had not really managed to get all his chores done. But he had tried his best, the thought that he maybe could leave this house always in the back of his mind. Three weeks, and then he could leave. He had worked from the early morning hours into the late night hours.

And then September the first had come and uncle Vernon had kicked him out of the house, not even bothering to tell him how he would get to London and Kings Cross station.

Well, he had been walking, hoping that he would be on the right way. He had come along a bus stop and there had been a bus with a sign that clearly had said 'London'. And so he had stopped, looking at the bus curiously, not knowing what exactly the large car had been and not knowing if the large car would bring him to London and to Kings Cross station. He had been standing in front of the large car, wondering why in Heaven's name the man inside had been waving at him like mad.

But then an old woman had gotten out of the bus and had asked him if he wanted to drive to London and he had nodded. So she had taken him into the bus and she had given the man who had been waving at him like mad some money.

He had feared the man. And he had feared the woman too, and all the other people in the bus. But he had not shown them.

Well, he had been sitting in his seat silently, listening to the woman talking about cats until the woman had told him that they were near Kings Cross. There he had left the bus, hoping that he would have more luck with the train he was supposed to take.

Later that day, when he had been at Hogwarts he'd had blisters again, but he hadn't thought much of it, there had been worse cuts and bruises on his body than those blisters. And throughout the past weeks, since he was here, he had gotten used to wearing shoes. Maybe just because Professor Snape had hexed them so they had become smaller. Well, no. He had not hexed them. He had shrunken them, he had said. It had been a charm, he had said.

It really wasn't easy with this magic. There were charms, there were hexes, curses and then there were spells for transfiguration and for defense, for charms and even for potions. But there were none for elementary magic. He only had to imagine things to do elementary magic.

Like he imagined …

Hitching a breath he blinked in near shock.

Maybe …

Maybe if he imagined it hard enough, maybe then the Professor really would be there? Maybe then this all would be reality? Maybe then Professor Snape really would be here, and his father, and would love him? Maybe …

Closing his eyes he held his breath and imagined the man there, sitting behind him just like the warm body that he was leaning at right now, holding him like the Professor had done so often.

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Severus inclined his head to his left side when he felt Harry in his arms stiffen.

He was sitting at the bench they so often sat at, underneath the weeping willow, and he was holding his son in his arms, the boy's back pressed against his chest and his head resting at his shoulder, relaxed like rarely before. But right now Harry's body stiffened, but it wasn't a stiffening that indicated fear or pain. It rather was as if the boy was concentrating on something so hard that not only his mind worked in knots but his body as well.

"Harry?" He asked, turning his son in his arms so he could peer into the boy's pale face.

He had noticed him closing his eyes and turning his face towards the sun earlier, when he had been leading him out into the yard. It had been a response. A response to the warmth and the light of the sun maybe.

He did not know what exactly had caused the boy hitching his breath and then stiffening now, but it again had been a response to something. If he just knew to what.

"Harry?" He asked again, his black eyes searching in the pale face for something, for anything.

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Maybe it was true. Maybe it was not only a dream. Maybe it was not just imagination.

He had felt someone slip shoes on his feet earlier. And they had not been the shoes aunt Petunia had thrown at him.

They had felt strange. Safe somehow, enclosing not only his feet but his ankles too, but they had felt strange nevertheless. But he had been able to walk in them. Even if walking in them had been strange too. Really strange. And he had stumbled once and nearly fell.

Maybe it had been the Professor who had slipped those shoes onto his feet? And maybe it had been the Professor who had been leading him out into the back yard where he had felt the sun on his face? And then had steadied him when he had stumbled? Thinking back and trying to remember he had to admit that it had felt like the Professor's fingers curling around his upper arms.

He heard his name being called, in a low and deep voice, just like the Professor's. The older wizard had spoken to him earlier, hadn't he? And now he was asking him something, called his name, wasn't he? That meant that he was here, didn't it? Professor Snape was here, and so he wasn't alone.

Turning his head he opened his eyes and tried to look up at the man, tried to smile once again and suddenly there were those stern, black tunnels that were the Professor's eyes and he couldn't help but smile at the man before he gave a sigh and closed his eyes, leaning his head back at the older wizard's shoulder.

He was not alone. The Professor was there. And it wasn't a dream. It wasn't an imagination.

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Harry was opening his eyes and he was looking directly at him, and this time it wasn't this absent look in the boy's green eyes, it wasn't that far away look that had bothered him all day. This time it was an unsure one, a questioning one, one that showed interest, one that showed he recognized him, recognized his surroundings and he had to fight hard to suppress a sigh of relief.

"I see you have decided to come back to the land of the living, Mr. Snape." He said, his eyebrow raised, trying to hide his emotions under his sarcastic tone of voice. "Are you feeling well?"

He turned the boy in his arms slightly so he could peer into his face more easily. Harry nodded for a moment and then – Severus couldn't help smiling slightly – moved his hands to give a sign away.

"Tired." Was the only word Harry signed, but it was enough for the Potions Master.

His son was back, his son responded to him and his son recognized him.

"Understandable." He said, running his fingers lightly over the child's forehead. "The past few days have been strenuous for you." He hesitated for a moment, but then he took his son under his armpits, lifted him off his lap and stood him on the ground in front of him. He curled his fingers around the boy's upper arms and gazed at him intently.

"You _do _recognize that you are my son now?" He asked, his black eyes piercing the green ones that still looked so unsure and fearful at him and he couldn't help but again running his hand over the boy's forehead again, trying to ease his child's discomfort and confusion, the fears and the uncertainty.

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Harry wasn't sure how to answer.

Yes, he knew that the Professor now was his father. The older wizard had told him so on more than one occasion by now and he had thought it through too. But he still wasn't sure what exactly he had to make out of it. He wasn't sure what it meant for him, now that he was the Potions Master's son. He wasn't sure what it would mean for his future, for his well being, for his life, for his mind, for his heart, for everything he could think of.

So he settled on just nodding at the man.

Yes, he felt safe in his Professor's presence, and yes, he felt comfortable with the dark and tough man. And he didn't fear him so much anymore, not really at least. But he didn't know if this new situation wouldn't change everything that was the safety and comfort he had learned to know now.

He didn't know if it would be safe to actually believe it, just to lose it later if he had gotten used to it. Maybe it was better to never have something than to have something and then to lose it again.

"What exactly do you fear, child?" He heard the Professor's silent and calm voice and gazing up into the dark eyes he suddenly wasn't sure if he could deal with everything that had changed during the past few weeks.

"I don't know." He finally signed, frustrated over the fact of how much his fingers trembled. "Everything has changed so quickly. And I don't know what to do with it. I don't know what will change because of it. And I don't know if it will be good. In the end, I mean."

The Potions Master that was his father now sighed, still watching him so intensely, his eyes serious. But then he pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded.

"I cannot tell you if it will be good in the end." The man finally said and he was surprised at the honesty behind his words. The Dursleys never would have talked thus honestly with him. Not that they would have given him an answer in the first place, but that wasn't the point. The Potions Master told him the truth, never mind what the truth was. He never had lied to him, he recognized. "I cannot know what the future will bring, no one can, Harry. But I do know that I love you. I never have loved someone during the past ten years, I am not a person who easily gives love, let alone admit it to someone. But I do love you, child."

He felt the man's hand on his cheek and for once he did not flinch away at the contact, something that actually nearly made him proud.

"I do know that your life has turned upside down during the past few weeks here at Hogwarts, that your life has changed completely during a much too short of time for you to grasp what it will mean to you. You are afraid that I will abandon you one day, you are afraid that maybe I even might change and become the same man as has been your uncle. You fear that one day I might start to beat you, to starve you and to lock you into a cupboard. Just like the persons that has been your previous guardians."

He nodded when the Potions Master paused for a moment, watched him questioningly, even if he knew that the Professor didn't expect an answer from him. Not this time. But he couldn't bring himself to look at him, and he averted his eyes onto the earth instead.

He felt the man's fingers under his chin and his head being lifted until he had to look into those black eyes that studied him.

"But be assured, Harry, I never, absolutely never, will do such things. Never mind if I am your father now or not. I will not beat you, I will not starve you, and I will not lock you into a cupboard. And if I have to abandon every cupboard in our quarters in favor of shelves to make my point, then I will do just that. Is that understood, Mr. Snape?"

Harry blinked at the Potions Master, confused. Mr. Snape?

He had the vague feeling that the Professor had called him Mr. Snape before, but he wasn't sure. And why should he even? Just because he was the Potions Master's son now surely didn't mean that the Professor would give him his name too. His name was Harry Potter, wasn't it? And Professor Snape surely would not want him being a Snape by name, did he?

Silent chuckling got him out of his musings and he gazed questioningly at the man before him.

"Surely you do did not think that I would call my own son by a different sure name, Harry, did you?" The Professor asked him and nearly ashamed he tried to lower his gaze at the floor, but the Professor's fingers kept his face in place and he looked back into those black eyes that right now seemed to be even deeper than they normally were and the man sighed.

"I do not know, Harry, how much of what I told you the past two days you actually took in and how much of that what you actually _did_ take in you do remember." His Professor said and he had to admit that he didn't know for himself either. "But you are not only my son by adoption. You are my son by blood as well. I have made a paternal potion after I found a few resemblances you hold towards myself and it definitely proved that you indeed are my son. And you always have been. You are not a Potter, but a Snape. You are the son of Lily Evans and Severus Snape, me. So your true name would not be Harry James Potter, but Harry Severus Snape and by that name you will go by now. If that is amenable with you."

He wasn't sure what exactly the Professor meant with 'if that is amenable with you' but he had the distinct feeling that he was asking for his permission. And he didn't understand that either. Why would Professor Snape ask for his permission? And what did he mean, he was his son by blood, had always been? What did he mean James Potter hadn't been his father?

Had the adoption changed that? Was it a magical thing?

It simply was too much for him to take in and he simply was too tired to figure it out completely now.

He didn't know what to do, what to say, how to react, but the older wizard surely waited for a reaction. And he didn't want to disappoint him, he didn't want the man believing that it would mean nothing to him. If he just wouldn't be so damn tired.

But then his Professor seemed to sense his dilemma and he simply released his chin and opened his arms, invited him into them, just like he had done so often by now. But this time, for the first time, Harry stepped into the embrace he was offered by his own and when his … when his father placed one hand on his back, running up and down his spine and the other hand around his neck in this secure grip, just like he always did, he didn't even flinch.

He rested his head on his Professor's - on his father's shoulder, listening to his heart beat, feeling the man's chest and shoulders move with each breath he took, feeling the warmth that spread from the body that held him and the arms around him squeezed him a little bit tighter, making all the previous insecurities, fears and worries go away.

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It had been a long day for him, he had to admit, and he felt more tired than he had felt in days now.

Dealing with an unresponsive child he had to feed and to dress, not to mention the worry about the state the boy had been in, it was more tiring than even all those hundreds and thousands of questions a child could ask holes into his stomach with. And the fact that it was his son who had been so unresponsive, not even recognizing him, that it was Harry whom he had become to love, didn't make it any easier. In the contrary. All those worries had tired him out more than he liked to admit. Not bodily, but mentally.

Well, but at least the boy had recovered during the day, had recognized him, had started to understand what he had told him, and he even had used his signs to communicate with him. He had … he had been coming back to his former self.

He had brought him back to their quarters two hours later, had suggested that they had an early dinner as he had sensed his child's tiredness. Not only had Harry told him that he was tired, and not only had he seen the tiredness in his son's face and in his appearance, but he actually could sense the exhaustion and he wondered what might have going through that thick skull of his son. The child could be more stubborn than he and Lily had been together.

Well, he was his son after all. Of course the boy was stubborn.

And of course he didn't have to wonder what exactly was going through the boy's head. He already knew it. The question if he really would accept him as his son fully. The question if he would handle him as had his former guardians, his relatives, now that he was his father. The question what it would mean for him and for his future.

And all those questions added to the fact that everything had changed for him so soon. Of course the child's mind wouldn't be able to deal with all this easily. Of course it would occupy his mind and of course it would exhaust him.

He entered the small kitchen and found Harry already sitting at the table, kneeling on the chair, his arms laying on the table and his head resting above his arms, his eyes far away.

"Harry?" He softly asked, not wanting to startle the boy, but he got no response and he sighed in frustration. The boy was back to being nearly comatose.

"Harry?" He asked again, approaching the child, hoping against hope that his son only was thinking, but at the same time he knew that it was not so. At the same time he knew that the recovery earlier had only been a short one. And the moment he received no answer, no response, proved his thoughts.

"It is time we eat something." He said, shoving the boy into an upright position on his shoulders, even then hoping that the change of position would get the boy back to reality again, but nothing happened and he sighed in frustration. It would have been too easy, wouldn't it? His life never had been easy and it never would be. So yes, it _would_ have been too easy.

He sat down at the table, beside Harry and for a moment he hesitated.

He had buttered toast laying out on the table for dinner, vegetables and chicken breast. Nothing the boy could swallow without chewing like the porridge they'd had for breakfast this morning or like the soup they'd had for lunch. But then he sighed and cut the chicken breast into small pieces. He simply would have to try.

"Open up, Harry." He said, extending the fork towards the boy's mouth and nudging his lips with the piece of food. Harry did as he was told, or simply responded to the nudge on his lips and opened his mouth, allowing the piece of chicken breast being shoved in before he closed it again.

"Chew." Severus said, hoping the boy wouldn't try to swallow it immediately and hoping Harry would know how to chew in the state he was in. "It isn't soup but a piece of chicken breast and you actually will have to chew it or you will choke on it."

He watched Harry's face intently and he nearly sighed a sigh of relieve when the boy actually began to chew, slowly and mechanically, his face not showing if he liked what had been placed into his mouth or not, but he chewed. Well, so he would be able to feed the boy more than just soup or porridge or similar things.

"That's it." He said, his voice nearly a sad whisper. "And now swallow it."

Again Harry did as he was told, maybe only because he instinctively knew that he had chewed the food enough, maybe actually reacting to Severus' voice, he didn't know.

"I know that chicken is not your favourite food, Harry, but it still is important that you eat it." He said, simply trying to say something, anything, so his son would hear his voice and maybe would react to it. "Maybe we will be able to get Zilly to serve spinach tomorrow for dinner. You do like this one. And at least it isn't just chicken but there are vegetables as well."

He nudged Harry's lips with a piece of carrot and this time Harry opened his mouth without being told, reacting to the nudge alone and Severus shoved the food in again. And again Harry began to chew by himself, without being told to. He acted mechanically only, Severus was sure of this and again he cursed the headmaster, the minister and the Dursleys. _Mostly_ the Dursleys.

How could they have mistreated the child to a point where Harry would have so deep abandonment issues that he fell into such a deep state of shock when he …

The fire flared and Severus nearly cursed. Not now, damn!

"Zilly." He called his house elf and with a soft 'pop' the small creature appeared. "There is someone at the floo, please have a look who it is, and tell the – guest – that I am busy with Harry right now."

"Of course, master Snape, sir." Zilly answered, bowing, nearly smiling at the word 'guest' as if he knew that the Potions Master had had another word on his mind originally.

Shaking his head at the small creature that knew him a bit too good for his liking he shoved a piece of toast into Harry's mouth. Well, he knew it actually was a good thing that Zilly knew him that well. He never had to explain anything to the small creature and Zilly obeyed his ever command, never mind how strange this command might be, knowing that he had a reason behind each and ever command he gave. So, yes, he had to admit, he actually liked this small house elf a lot.

"It is Miss Harvest, master Snape, sir." Zilly came back and told him, wringing his hands in midair. "And Miss Harvest sais that she is want to see master Snape, sir. I's be sorry, I's be telling her that …"

"It is alright, Zilly." Severus said, sighing with relieve. He had not thought about asking Harvest, but maybe it was a good thing that she was here now. Maybe she would know what to do. "Invite her over and lead her into the kitchen, please."

Harvest had been working with children for her entire live now and maybe she would be able to help him, maybe she would know what to do, maybe she just had ideas. Right now he would welcome nearly everything.

"Professor." He heard Elsa Harvest greeting him and he turned his head away from his son to give the woman a nod.

"Miss Harvest." He answered. "Please, have a seat." He said, pointing at a chair opposite his own while watching Harry's reaction to their guest. If the boy would react, if he would show any signs of fear or of being uncomfortable in the woman's presence, then he would know that he at least was still noticing what was going on around him.

But Harry didn't react to Harvest's presence at all. As if she wouldn't be there, and he sighed while he nudged the boy's lips with another piece of chicken and placed it into his mouth as soon as it was open.

"What happened, Professor?" The woman asked and Severus noticed that she was watching him and Harry startled.

"Too much in too short a time." He simply answered. "He is like this since I got back. He had a few moments of recognition and alertness but they are rare and short."

"Does he respond to anything if you talk to him?"

"No." Severus answered. "Talking to him doesn't help if he is gone, but today I took him outside into the back yard and it seemed to help. He has been responsive for more than two hours then. But otherwise I am at a loss, I have to admit."

"Well, seeing you handling the situation, I think that you have it quite under control …" Elsa Harvest said and he couldn't help snorting.

"You think so?" He asked sarcastically. "I dare to doubt that. I would have the situation under control, would I be able to get my son out of his un-responding state, Madam. But I am not. I only can talk to him, feed him, bath him, dress him and try to comfort him as good as possible and nothing more."

"If I am not mistaken, then you are a trained legillimens, Professor." Harvest carefully stated. "Wouldn't you be able to …"

"No, I would not." Severus growled darkly. "The mind is not a book that is opened and read easily or by will only. And the younger a mind is, the more dangerous it is to linger in it as deeply as it would be necessary to not only find the child in there but to bring him back as well. The mind is a complex building of layers covering layers and the mind of an abused child is just the more complex. I would do more harm than good if I went through those layers."

"Forgive my curiosity, Professor, but how so?" Elsa Harvest asked. "You have used legillimens on other students of your house to find the answers you have been searching for."

"I have brushed their minds." He answered. "I have scratched at the memories that lay bare after I mentioned the issues. If mentioning something, the memory will come to the forefront of the mind and I will be able to brush against it to see what I am searching for. If my suspicions are right, that is. But for finding a person within a mind, for getting someone who is hiding away back to life, it isn't enough to simply brush against this mind. It isn't enough to scratch at the memories that lay bare. I would have to enter Harry's mind completely and I would have to dig through memory after memory. I would have to search his entire mind, every corner, every layer, and every fold where he could be hiding. And by doing so, I would leave marks behind, I would leave a signature behind, I would leave new issues behind the child would have to deal with added to the ones he already are struggling with in the first place."

"But he would have you to help him dealing with them." Harvest shook her head, not understanding.

"Even I would not be able to." He huffed at her. "I can watch a memory, I can feel an emotion and I can learn from a mind. But I cannot change a mind. Neither would it be what I want. A person's mind is nothing that is to be changed by good will. A person actually has to deal with what is on his or her mind by him or her self. And Harry has to deal with enough without my presence there to add to his troubles and problems. He will be able to show me if he is ready to, but searching a young and unstable mind, I could destroy him completely. I will not take this risk with my son."

"Of course not." The woman sighed. "I only thought it would be a possibility."

"You thought wrong, Madam." Severus nearly hissed, right now nudging the boy's lips that were pressed together tightly with another piece of chicken. "As much as I wished you were right. Come now, Harry. You cannot tell me that you are already finished. You are eating less and less with each meal."

"What other possibilities do you have?" Elsa Harvest asked, watching the scene with worried eyes.

"I actually hoped you would be able to answer this question." The Potions Master said, his eyes still on his son, still trying to get him to eat more. "I actually hoped that you had an idea."

"Well, I have to admit that I have not." The woman shook her head. "Wouldn't the boy's abandonment issues be so deep, then I would suggest St. Mungos. But as it is, it would do more harm to Harry."

"Exactly." Severus said, throwing a dark gaze at her. "I won't allow this option! Harry will stay here with me!"

"I didn't suggest otherwise, Professor."

"You better didn't! Any other ideas?"

"Well, sometimes music is used as a therapy for children that had been abused." Harvest said, her face thoughtful, knowing that the man wasn't really angry at him but that he only was angry at the situation, that he was at a loss and that he felt helpless. "Or drawing pictures. Sometimes physical exercises or playing in water or sand are helping too."

Severus looked at her for a moment before he nodded.

"Maybe different smells? Different tastes?" He asked, beginning to understand. "Different things to touch, like stones or wood? To hear? To fell? You mean, playing with his senses?"

"Yes." The woman from child welfare answered smiling. "I'm not a healer, but that is what the healers at St. Mungos are doing with the children I sent over to them."

"I begin to understand." Severus nodded.

Well, maybe not everything was lost. Maybe there was a way to get Harry back completely without taking the risk of getting into his mind to search for him. And if it would take him months, years, even forever, then he would do it. This was not a question. He didn't even mind the fact that maybe he would have to resign his post as a Potions Master and head of house. He had considered it anyway after Albus' visit this early morning hours.

He could brew potions and sell them to the apothecaries and to St. Mungos, just like he had done before he had started teaching at Hogwarts. And while brewing privately, he still could take care of Harry. It wouldn't be easy, he knew, but it would be possible. He would be able to manage this. He had managed worse.

He had been a slave to two mad wizards for years, acting at their biding. He would be able to care for his son for a few years now. And he would do so by free will and not because he had to, because he was told to do so. It would be his own decision.

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He felt warm and comfortable and closing his eyes, relaxing further into the warmth, he noticed that the warmth around him was water. Taking a breath he smelled lavender and he would have sighed if he would have been able to, but he didn't know how to do so. Sometimes it was as if he just existed. He was able to feel, and sometimes he was able to think, he could hear his Professor talking sometimes, his father, but he didn't really understand what was said to him, and neither did he know what the words meant. Not always at least when the older wizard talked to him. And mostly he wasn't able to react to the things he felt either. It was strange, but it was comfortable at the same time. He felt safe this way.

He was alone then, he knew, but this way no one could hurt him. This way no one could harm him.

But he liked the feeling of just being in the water, and he liked the smell of lavender. It calmed him and it made him feel at ease, it made him feel just the more comfortable. And at the same time he knew that he wasn't completely alone.

He heard softly spoken words, spoken in a deep and dark voice, in a voice he knew.

Well, of course he wasn't alone. The smell of lavender proved that the Potions Master was there.

The words continued to waver over his awareness, to float through his consciousness.

Yes, he of course wasn't alone. The smell of lavender proved that his _father_ was there.

"Do try to feel the warmth of the water, Harry." He suddenly understood the words, but their meanings were foreign to him. He didn't know what they meant.

And he _knew_ that it was the Potions Master, that it was his father, because only _he_ would add lavender to the bath he obviously was sitting in right now.

"Do try to smell the lavender, Harry. You always liked this smell. You always are able to relax with a bath of lavender." The words continued without being understood by him.

And yes, he actually was comfortable with the thought that the Potions Master was there.

"It is alright if you won't come back, but I want you to feel, child."

Because he was the Potions Master's son.

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Severus has to make a few decisions – as has Harry … _

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you


	41. on the road again

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

At first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"Do try to smell the lavender, Harry. You always liked this smell. You always are able to relax with a bath of lavender." The words continued without being understood by him._

_And yes, he actually was comfortable with the thought that the Potions Master was there._

_"It is alright if you won't come back, but I want you to feel, child."_

_Because he was the Potions Master's son._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter forty-one**

**On the road again  
**

Severus settled his son into bed without thinking about it. He had done it so many times by now that the procedures were almost by route to him now. It had become something like a ritual, it was nothing new to him and – despite his past – he had to admit that he enjoyed it doing so. Aside from the fact that, right now, he had to get the boy ready. Harry couldn't take a bath by himself before bed, he – Severus – bathed him. The boy couldn't dress in clean pyjamas either, he, Severus dressed him. And he couldn't brush his teeth, so that too Severus did for the boy, all the while talking to him, hoping that his son at least understood what he told him.

And right now he was sitting in the armchair that stood beside the boy's bed, Harry standing in front of him, his back turned towards him, whle he ran the hair brush through the boy's hair that easily reached his shoulders, braiding them for the night.

"You know, Harry, sometimes I wonder if I should cut your hair." He said. "It would be easier for you, especially when you go back to classes. But I quite like it the way it is, and even if it pains me to admit, I enjoy it to brush your hair. Imagine!" He huffed at himself. "The dark and snarky dungeons bat, brushing the hair of a firsty. I am sure your classmates would die of a heat attack if they knew!"

A small headshake got his attention and he turned the boy on his shoulders so he could look into Harry's face, his eyes searching the far away look in the green eyes. The boy definitely had heard his comment, and he had understood its meaning and did not want his hair being cut. That at least was what he thought. But the green eyes were still far away, not focused, and not in the here and now. They even looked tired, somehow, in their far away look.

"You do not want your hair being cut?" He asked, just to be sure that he had not imagined the boy's headshake and to get more response out of Harry. Again he got a headshake, but still the child's eyes were unfocused and anywhere but at the present time. Slowly he lifted his hand to run his fingers through some of the black strands and he opened his mouth to say something when Harry did the same and slowly extended his hand to run his fingers through his, Severus', hair.

Nearly holding his breath the Potions Master crooked his head a bit to allow the boy easier access to his hair to show him he was allowed to touch him, and he had to fight the attempt to close his eyes for a moment. But nothing more happened. Neither did Harry answer him with giving signs away, nor with a headshake. He simply ran his hand through his hair before he let his arm fall back to his side.

"Well." Severus said, nearly sighing. "Then I shall not do so. What if we get you into this bed of yours so you get a good night's sleep?"

Of course he got no answer, but he had not expected one either and so he turned the boy on his shoulders and shoved him towards the bed. He pushed him down until he sat and then settled him in and tucked the blankets around his small and fragile form.

He brushed a stray hair off the boy's forehead, briefly touching the lightning shaped scar and suddenly Harry lifted his hand and caught his fingers, held them still while his bright eyes seemed to search his face nearly fearfully.

"What is it, child?" The Potions Master asked, hoping that it was another moment, hoping that it would last longer this time, hoping that maybe this time it would be a breakthrough.

But it didn't seem so, even if the boy acted strange. His eyes still held this far away look, still on the far wall ahead of him, but he turned his face towards him, Severus, for a moment before he took a deep breath for another moment and then turned his face back to the place where his eyes were settled onto and the Potions Master actually had to suppress a sad sigh, not wanting to worry Harry encase the boy would notice it. He only would come to wrong conclusions again.

He gently started to simply move the boy's feet in a circle, moving the ankle before massaging them and then moving the boy's wrists, elbows and shoulders. Harry was not able to do his exercises by himself right now, but he nevertheless would not allow him to miss them completely. It was important that Harry moved his feet, his arms, his ankles and wrists, his shoulders. All of his joints. He ended with simply massaging the boy's back, just like he did every evening before the boy fell asleep.

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Harry felt strange. Definitely strange.

And it wasn't the normal way to feel strange. He knew that the Professor, that his father, expected something from him and he knew that – somehow – he was ready to give it. If he only knew how. But that wasn't all of it.

He felt as if he would linger between two worlds. He had felt the warm water earlier, and he had felt the man getting him dressed into a clean pair of pyjamas, had smelled the familiar and comforting smell of lavender, tangerine and coriander. He had felt him brushing his teeth, and he had hated it. He didn't hate it in general, always loving the taste of peppermint, but he hated it as he didn't do it by himself. He didn't like the fact that it was done by someone else than him.

But then he had felt the man brushing his hair and he again had liked this one. He always had liked it when the Professor brushed his hair. He never had had someone doing this before. Aunt Petunia always only had threatened to cut it. Or she actually had done so a lot of times, until she had gotten frustrated by the fact that it always had been re-grown the day after. And then she simply had left it to threatening him with it. But the Professor never had threatened about it.

He had suggested he could do so, but when he had shaken his head, his father had accepted it.

Professor Snape shoved him down onto the mattress and he automatically pulled his legs up, glad and nearly proud at himself that he was able to do so by himself. But on the other hand – he knew that he should do more. That there was something important he should do. Yes – if he just knew what it was – and how to do so.

He felt a familiar weight settle on the edge of his bed and a hand come to rest on his back and it felt nice, as always. Professor Snape's hands began to massage his back, as the man did every evening before he went to sleep and he sighed, closing his eyes. His father had said that he should do so only every second day, that his muscles should have time to … to … he didn't remember what exactly it had been the Professor had said, but it wasn't important. He did so every evening nevertheless and it always felt good, felt relaxing. He felt safe and cared for.

Slowly he drifted off to sleep.

It was an hour or so later however when he awoke, curled up to the Professor, the older wizard's arms curled around him and holding him safely and at first he was a bit embarrassed when he realized how familiar and how comfortable he had been in his sleep at first until the nightmare had started.

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Severus released a relieved breath he hadn't known he had been holding when Harry finally had woken from his nightmare – after what had seemed like an eternity to him.

The boy had been sleeping peacefully until a few minutes ago and he had tried to wake his son out of the nightmare he was suffering from, only to get him even more afraid and he had done the only thing that had seemed right and had taken Harry into his arms, pulling him close, giving him as much comfort as possible while talking to him.

And right now Harry seemed to be embarrassed by the fact that he bad been waking – yet again – in his arms. But then he smiled. If Harry felt embarrassed, and enough so that it was shown on his face, then he maybe was fully awake now, was fully with him now. Maybe due to the nightmare, having been bad enough to be a stimulant.

"You did look like you could use some comfort earlier and I do hope that you do not mind me offering it." He said, silently hoping he would get an answer of some kind. And actually, the boy shook his head, while running his hand over his forehead, wiping away some of the perspiration that had formed there.

"That was a rather violent nightmare, Harry." Severus continued, getting serious again. "Would you please tell me about it?" He asked, but immediately Harry shook his head, looking nearly frightened.

"It might help, Harry, and you do know this already." The Potions Master tried to convince his son. "It is not the first time we are here on this particular situation."

"I can't." Harry signed, his movements as fearful as was the expression on his face.

"Why ever not?" Severus pressed. Those words always were Harry's first words after a nightmare.

"I don't know." His son answered slowly. "I don't know how."

"May I ask who the nightmare was about?" He asked. It wasn't always Vernon or Petunia Dursley the boy dreamed of. There had been quite a few times now Harry had been dreaming about just being alone, or about simply being back in his cupboard, or even – about him, Severus.

He never would have gotten this particular answer out of Harry in a straight question, but he wasn't a Slytherin for nothing after all and he knew how to get information the other way round.

Harry nodded and they were quiet for several moments, Severus absently running his hand over Harry's back, and Harry trying to think about how to answer.

"It was about you, sir." Harry answered, startling the Potions Master with those words. Up to now Harry never had admitted this one to him in a straight answer.

"What has happened?" He quietly asked.

"You … you have been … disappointed." Came the small and hesitant answer in form of Harry's signs and Severus couldn't help but closing his eyes for a moment. This dream showed all of Harry's fears, he knew. Harry was afraid that he would disappoint him, he always had been afraid of this, but now, since he had been arrested, now, since he had told him that he was his father, now this fear simply had increased. And maybe that was the reason why the boy was hiding within himself - partly at least.

"How so?" He asked further.

"I have been in classes." Harry answered, giving a deep sigh away. "But I haven't been able to do magic. And a student in front of me had turned and said that you never liked failures. And that you would be angry because I wasn't able to do magic. And then suddenly you have been in the classroom. And you have been disappointed and then you have left the classroom and Hogwarts."

The boy didn't say "and me" but Severus nevertheless knew that it was there, those two little words that were so important.

"Listen, Harry." He finally said. "First – yes, I am known to be a rather stern teacher that does not like laziness. But honestly, I actually do enjoy teaching and I actually am able to recognize when a student is unable to brew a potion because he or she is – simply unable to, or if he or she is just to lazy to do homework, research or to learn."

He placed his fingers underneath the boy's chin and lifted his head so he had to look at him.

"And if a student actually does not understand, then I would be the last person to turn said student away." He said. "I simply would set him onto remedial potions. Second – I surely would not leave the classroom or Hogwarts just because a student is unable to brew a potion correctly. I would be absent all the time then and the headmaster would have to look for a new Potions Master. And third - and most importantly - there is no need for you to fear disappointing me. You are a respectful young man that not only shows manners and intelligence but you are a young man that actually wants to learn whatever there is to learn. You have proven yourself this much. And, believe me, Harry, I surely would not leave _you_! Is that understood?"

The boy nodded, even if only reluctantly and both were silent for a few moments, Severus thinking about the scene of his son's nightmare. He could understand Harry's fears, but he didn't know what he could do against them. He of course could make promises, but promises alone would not be enough, would not prove his son that he actually meant it. For this kind of trust the boy simply had gone through too much in his short life, he knew that.

Realizing that Harry was crying he sat up and pulling the boy that still lay in his arms with him he secured him tightly against his chest. If he couldn't prove his son that he could believe him, then he would give him at least that comfort, the comfort of knowing that he was loved, that he was wanted and that he was ready to comfort him whenever he needed comfort.

"Hush, child." He whispered. "I do know how difficult this is for you, but it will be alright. We both will make it better, I promise."

"It never will be better!" The boy signed with trembling hands, still crying.

"It will be, Harry." Severus said sternly. "It might seem impossible to you right now, I do know this, but if we both work on this together, we _will _be able to make it better."

But again Harry shook his head against his chest and Severus shoved the boy away on his shoulders to look into his son's pale face.

"Tell me why not, Harry." He demanded calmly but sternly.

"Because I'm …" The boy started but then stopped, looking aside.

"Because you are what, Harry?"

"Because I am just a freak. And because I cannot be good. And because I don't deserve any better!" The boy finally burst out, his hands moving nearly frantically in front of him.

"No, Mr. Snape!" Severus nearly hissed. "That is not true! You are not a freak! You are a respectful and intelligent young man and you absolutely do deserve better! And that is what will happen!"

"But I never do anything right! And uncle … my uncle had been right to punish me! He only punished me!"

"And tried to kill you, Harry!" Severus sarcastically reminded him.

"I wish he had!" The boy signed forcefully. He would have screamed it, would he have used his voice.

"I beg your pardon?" Severus now growled dangerously low. "And that would be why, Mr. Snape?"

"Just so the pain goes away! It just hurts and I just want it go away! I … I …"

Not able to find the words he searched for he sagged into a small ball, his sobs increasing and his hands going into fists that gripped his hair tightly.

"First, you tried, always." Severus said, prying the boy's small fingers from his hair, gripping on the boy's upper arms and shoving him into an upright position again and he once more lifted his son's head, his dark eyes searching the pale face. "You did your best and nothing more I expect of you. And nothing more I ever will expect of you. And just because that idiot of an uncle of yours expected things of you that never were realizable, does not mean he was right in his so called 'punishments'. There never had been a reason for those 'punishments' in the first place and I guess you do know this by yourself. You only are searching for an explanation right now and I can understand your need to understand what had been done to you. But there is none, I fear."

Running his hand over Harry's forehead he took a deep breath.

"Second, I promise, I will do everything that lies in my power to make your pain going away, but I will need your help here. I need you to trust me here." He said, cradling Harry's head to his chest. "I simply need you to trust me here, child. But I promise, I will bring happiness and I will bring joy back to you."

"You can't bring back something I never had." Harry signed, his face drawn at that realization.

"You are wrong here, Harry." Severus softly said. "You did have happiness and joy once. It is a long time ago and I do know that you do not remember, but you once did have it. And I will make sure that you will have it again one day. You only will have to trust me."

The boy pushed himself away and looked up at him with much too large green eyes and Severus couldn't help narrowing his eyes. There was something in the boy's face that was strange, that was – he couldn't name it. But there was something.

"What is it, child?" He asked, slightly lowering his head to one side.

A few moments nothing happened, but then Harry shook his head and closed his eyes for a split second.

"Nothing, sir." He then signed. "I'm sorry, sir. I know that you're right. But I don't know … I don't know how … I don't know …"

"Stop it right there, Harry." Severus sighed. "You do not have to explain it as I already do know how difficult it is to trust and especially for you. But I will help you with that too, child. Not everything is lost yet. You are still young and you will be able to learn how to trust. Do believe an old man, child."

The boy in front of him actually smiled for a moment and he nodded, even if the smile was gone from the boy's face far too soon for his liking, was replaced by the ever wary and unsure look.

"Will you be able to go back to sleep now, child?" Severus asked, his dark eyes locking with the green ones and the boy nodded.

"Good." He said, laying the boy back onto the pillow and pulling the blankets up to cover the small form. "Then I will sit with you until you do."

A quick shaking of the boy's head that contradicted itself was Harry's answer and he lifted his eyebrow at his son.

"Foolish child." He quietly said. "Remember what I have told you about asking for help. So I will ask you once more, would you like me to stay until you are back to sleep?"

This time there was a small nod, the boy blushing deeply and he smiled.

"Then I will do just that." He said, settling into the armchair that stood beside the bed, taking the book that was laying on the desk beside the armchair into his hands, but he didn't read, he didn't even open the book, he just watched the boy closing his eyes and then he continued watching the child slowly falling asleep, his breathing evening out and he finally simply watched the boy sleeping, his thoughts swirling around the child, his son, the future and what the new day might bring, unable to go back to sleep by himself right now.

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He was standing in the small kitchen, at the counter, cutting carrots into fine slices, nearly smiling. Nearly! He was Severus Snape! And Severus Snape did not smile, he remembered himself every now and then. Merlin, his students would die of a heat attack. He stopped in his movements. Maybe he actually should smile in front of them? It would be the perfect way to finally kill them! He was searching for the perfect way to kill them since years after all. So …

He felt Harry entering the room and now he actually _did _smile. Yes, he was still tired, did not feel really rested, his dreams having been plagued by images of hungry children, of beaten children, of cupboards, and of little boys being locked in those cupboards and of little boys laying dead in those cupboards. But he nevertheless felt good. The boy had been aware the entire day until now and he felt as if the world would be perfect. His son was still with him, what else would be important?

"Have you finished reading the chapter about the explanation of the healing potions?" He asked, finishing cutting the carrot he had in front of him and then turning towards the boy that now stood beside him and he narrowed his eyes at the child. It was not the first time during the past twenty-four hours that Harry watched him with such an odd expression on his face, as if there was something he didn't understood, of as if there was something that were really important to him. He wasn't even sure if Harry had heard his question, the green eyes fixed onto him as the child looked up at him, his face a mask of concentration.

Slowly the boy lifted a small hand, his fingers gently touching his, Severus', and he immediately knew that something was amiss, that it was something important, that he just now better kept silent and displayed patience. He knew that something important was about – he again narrowed his eyes at the boy and slightly lowered his head to one side, placing the knife aside and turning to face his son completely, daring the child to do what he thought he was about to do. The boy took a deep breath and then he opened his mouth. But after a moment he closed it shut and lowered his gaze, the concentration on his face gone, replaced by resignation.

Extending a hand he curled his fingers around the back of the boy's head and pulled him close, wrapped his other arm around the small shoulders.

"You do not have to, child." He softly said. "You are allowed to take your time, child. But if you want to, then again you are allowed to do so. I won't judge any of your actions."

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They were sitting at the table in the kitchen, having dinner. It had been a really good day, Harry being responsive the entire day. The boy even had been brewing his next potion and then he had helped cooking dinner.

They normally got their meals from the house elves in the kitchen or Zilly prepared them, but today he had decided to cook by himself. It had been a long time he last had been cooking and it had felt good doing so today. And having Harry helping him had been just perfect. He only had had to ensure that Harry knew he did not have to, that he was allowed to help him if he wanted to, but that he did not have to like with the Dursleys.

Watching his son he noticed the boy stacking the string beans in a pile, like one would place firewood in a pile, and then placing the carrots atop, thus building a green and orange tower in the center of this place that strangely looked like a pile of wood burning in a fire.

"One should think that the food is already cooked, Harry." He drawled, pointing at the pile of burning 'firewood' on the boy's plate. "You do not have to build a fire to get dinner ready."

Once again – lust like earlier while they were cooking – he had the impression that there was something Harry wanted to do and he gazed intently at the boy, watched him taking a deep breath and placing the fork aside and he waited. Again the boy looked as if he were even more concentrated as a student sitting in his NEWTs.

The boy opened his mouth, struggling, the small hands curled into fists, but then slowly closing it, a look of pure frustration on his face that was paler than usual.

"You do know, Harry, you are safe here." Severus said, nearly whispered, knowing exactly what it was Harry wanted to do and in that moment he wanted nothing more to do than to run his hand over Harry's face to calm him, he wanted to grab Harry's trembling hands and hold them still, to keep the boy from suffering like this. The boy had enough on his hands, he did not need this suffering added to all the troubles he was in.

But in the end all he could do was to wait, to be patient and to hope, his mind running a mile per second, while finally the boy looked aside, clearly frustrated once again.

"You seem to be laboring under a false impression." He softly said. "You think that all of this is one-sided. That I might have given you a home and a family, but that I on the other hand I have gained nothing out of it. But it simply is not so. Not only you began to trust and depend on me, but you too have become important to me. I too have gained something out of this. I got a son. And thus, whatever your choice is, whatever you will be able to do and whatever you simply will not be able to do, I will not judge you because of it. It is as I told you last night, I expect you to do your best, but I shall not abandon you if you simply do not manage a task, whatever this task is. You are safe here."

Harry nodded and again Severus could see the boy struggling with his emotions, the frustration clearly overwriting everything else and he again did not like the boy suffering like this. But again there was nothing he could do about it.

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It was later, after the bath and even after he had gotten Harry to bed that he was standing in front of the fire in his living area, thinking. It had been a long day. A good day, but a long one nevertheless, for him at least, always fearing Harry might fall back into his withdrawn state, always fearing he might lose the boy again. But it nevertheless had been a good day, and he simply knew - Harry had been on his way to say something to him, to actually speak. He knew it. The boy simply had not known how to, it simply had been a much too long time since the child had been speaking consciously the last time. But he had been ready to do so today. He had wanted to. If he only had could.

For a moment he wondered if Harry would be able to really ever do so, after years and years of silence.

And he knew, in the end all he could do was to encourage the boy to speak and to ensure he knew he was loved never mind what.

A small movement to his right got him out of his thoughts and his gaze fell on the child that just a moment ago had occupied his mind, having left his bed and his room in the middle of the night, silently and unnoticed. He was not surprised by this little fact. The boy always was silent, not only while not speaking, but in all his movements, in the slow and careful use of his hands, in his awkward elegance and in his thoughtful behavior. Harry simply was a silent child.

"It is late, Harry." He said. "What are you doing awake during such an hour? Are you unable to sleep? Do you need anything?"

Harry looked up at him, his eyes serious while he shook his head and the look on the boy's face nearly was a thoughtful one. The small face wasn't sleepily, indicating that he was awake fully and for some time yet.

"Shall I bring you back to bed, Harry, and sit with you until you are back to sleep then?" He asked, giving the boy the chance to ask for his help, but the young wizard silently stood beside the Potions Master and slowly, hesitantly, he grabbed Severus' sleeve, still looking up at him seriously. Everything seemed to stop dead for a moment while Harry stared at the man and Severus stared at Harry's grip on his sleeve and then into the small and serious face.

Again, not for the first time today, Harry opened his mouth, the grip the small fingers had on his sleeve tightening in anticipation and Severus turned completely to face the boy, looked down into the boy's face, waiting. But Harry closed his mouth before he took a deep breath and opened his mouth again. The grip on his sleeve tightening yet again and Harry's other hand went into a fist.

But once more his mouth closed and Severus feared that the boy might give up again, just like he had done earlier that day and he gently placed his fingers underneath the boy's chin. He could feel the desperation that washed over the child, the frustration, but he also could feel the need and the want his son radiated and he knew it was now or never. And though he hated to see this kind of pain in Harry's eyes, he also refused to settle for this silence right now.

"Say it!" He quietly ordered, his voice gentle but strict and demanding. "You are safe here and you want to, so say it!"

There was another moment where the boy opened his mouth, closed it again and then opened it once more, perspiration forming on the pale face that was a mask of concentration, of fear and of desperation.

"I … may … may I …" Harry whispered in a painfully rough voice and Severus had to fight for keeping up his usual cold and dark appearance, knowing that he only would startle Harry into retreating if he now acted strangely. "Am … am I … am … al- … allowed … -lowed … to … to call … call y-you …?" Frustrated with his own stuttering words the boy closed his eyes and balled his hands into tight fists and Severus had to grit his teeth, nearly unable to wait patiently. "To … to call … to call … call you … call you … d-dad?" A sigh of relieve escaped the boy while his shoulders slumped tiredly, while he nearly leaned forwards with his forehead against the Potions Master's stomach to lean against the man tiredly, barely able to keep himself from just doing so while at the same time Severus caught his breath as bonds of steel seemed to wrap around his chest, stealing his breath away.

It was out, the question was asked. It was out, in spoken words. He had done what he had felt the need of since yesterday now, and if he only wouldn't be so tired now, then he ...

For a moment Severus wasn't sure if he had heard Harry right. Not only had the child spoken, but also had he asked if he … if he could call him dad? He realized that his heart was racing for a reason he didn't know which.

A moment of silence followed, a moment during which none of the two wizarding beings moved and Harry was ready to turn and leave, sure that the Potions Master would be angry beyond reason for his question. But suddenly he gently was gathered into his father's arms and the older wizard pulled him close, held his head close to his chest while he could hear the man breathing heavily, as if something was keeping him from doing so.

"Harry … child …" The Potions Master's voice sounded thick and bending lower a bit, he grabbed the boy underneath his armpits and lifted him up, turning towards the coffee table and he stood the boy atop the furniture, not caring about the fact that it was a thing not to be done. He lifted his hand and gently touched the boy's forehead, brushing a stray strand of hair out of the boy's damp face. The much too large and fearful eyes that rested at him were nearly panicky.

"You are my son, Harry." He finally said, struggling to get his usual self back and under control. "Of course you are allowed to call me this." He answered, not able to get the word 'dad' over his lips actually. He was Severus Snape, for Merlin's sake and he surely wouldn't say this word!

"I … y-you … are … are y-you …" Again the boy had to press his eyes shut in concentration with the attempt to get the words out. "I … I'm … 'm … 'm sor-ry … sorry."

"There is no need to be, child." Severus said, again nearly hitching a breath and he actually had to force those words out by himself. "Do you even realize that you have done what we hoped for since weeks?" He asked, not sure if the boy actually knew that he was speaking. But then – well, he surely knew if he concentrated that much onto the task that he even had to press his eyes close. "And I actually am proud of you, child."

Startled the eleven year old shook his head.

"N … n-no!" He said. "Y-you … you … you can-t … can't."

"Yes, I can." Severus said, cradling his son's head towards his shoulder, noticing the boy's voice getting even rougher with each word he tried to get out. "I can and I am."

"M-may … may I …" Harry started again and the Potions Master shoved him away a bit so he could look at him, watched the small form wincing with pain, watched the small face grimacing with pain. "I … I don … don't …" Again the boy struggled with the words, his hands going into fists and his eyes pressed close tightly. "I don-t … don't … kn-know … know … how … " Shaking his head he slumped forwards and leaned his forehead back onto the man's shoulders and Severus simply curled his fingers around the back of his son's head.

"Hush." He said, his voice stern and serious. "There is no need to say anything more right now. You have done enough right now and you are in pain while speaking." He lifted the boy off the table and sat him onto the sofa. "I do not want you to exaggerate and to overstrain your vocal cords right now. We will talk more tomorrow. Wait here and do not move away!"

He waited for a nod from his son before he quickly left the living area and went into his potions laboratory, searching the shelves until he found what he was searching for. It was a pain relieving potion, but not the regular one. It was one based on the oil of the roots from a hazelnut tree mixed with the crashed roots of the white basswood.

The oily potion would calm the boy's strained vocal cords while at the same time the potion would be cooling the boy's throat. He had brewed this potion a few weeks ago, just in case, but he never really had thought that he actually would need it. He had been wrong. As he had been with so many other things concerning Harry Potter, concerning Harry Snape.

Coming back he found his son still sitting on the sofa and he sat down onto the coffee table so he was at least nearly at eyelevel with the boy. He pulled the stopper from the vial and reached the potion towards his son.

"Swallow this." He said quietly. "Swallowing will hurt at first, but it will ease in a moment."

Harry took the vial from his hands with trembling fingers, his face pale and his eyes restless. Damn, the entire boy radiated being just as restless as were his eyes, his gaze, but he obediently swallowed the potion, again grimacing in pain the moment he did so, holding his breath and curling his hands into fists. But just as he had promised, a moment later relieve crossed the small face and the lines of pain eased. If only those lines of fear would ease as well, Severus thought.

"I want you to use your voice carefully during the next days." He said while taking back the empty vial from his son and wiping some of the sweaty and drenched strands of hair out of the boy's face. "But I want you to use it nevertheless. I want you to stop using your voice whenever you are in pain, but I want you to use it nevertheless whenever you are comfortable wile doing so. And you immediately will tell me if you are in pain. Is that understood?"

At the boy's nod he was satisfied and he gathered his son into his arms, pulled him into a tight embrace. He was sure the boy didn't know what a great feat he had managed right now, speaking after such long years. And he was sure the boy didn't know how happy he had made him with this achievement. But the perspiration that still formed on Harry's face told him enough of how difficult a task it had been for the child and the restlessness the boy's body displayed showed him that Harry didn't believe it by himself yet.

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Severus lay awake in the darkness long after Harry had fallen asleep, wondering if he really had heard the boy correctly or if he had just imagined it. It had been a few little and stuttered words, but they were so large words in truth and they were more important to him than he had thought they would. They were a start, a start of whatever. The child being comfortable enough with him to finally giving up his need to not use his voice. Not to mention the fact that Harry had been with him the entire day today and the Potions Master could not help but allowing himself a real smile, right now knowing that not everything was lost.

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**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_preparations and decisions for Severus, Minerva and Harry … _

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you


	42. discussions and decisions

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

As there surely are readers that do not read all of my stories I will mention it here too:

First of all, I say thank you to all those who sent me get well wishes and I only can hope that you will be understanding - I cannot update right now as often as you are used to, but I will do my best to update at all and as soon as my wrist is healed enough so I can use my left hand again, I of course will be back to faster updates ... I hope you won't skin me until then ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Severus lay awake in the darkness long after Harry had fallen asleep, wondering if he had really heard the boy correctly or if he had just imagined it. It had been a few little and stuttered words, but they were so large words in truth and they were more important to him than he had thought they would. They were a start, a start of whatever, not to mention the fact that Harry had been with him the entire day today and the Potions Master could not help but allowing himself a real smile, right now knowing that not everything was lost._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter forty-two**

**Discussions and decisions**

It was three days later when Severus was sitting in his office, marking the seventh years' essays they had handed in not two hours ago.

And it had been three long and tiring days, three days during which he didn't know if his son would continue speaking or if he would stop again. Three days, during which he had to wait patiently while listening to the slow, hesitant and unsure stuttering the child gave away in a painfully stressed and frightened manner, the small and pale face tense with concentration – and frustration.

And every now and then he had to encourage the boy that it was alright to not only use his voice, but that it was alright for the child to use it slowly and in the unsure way he actually did, that Harry wasn't to blame for his stuttering and stammering, that they had time, that he – Severus – simply would take this time.

Three days, during which he constantly and carefully had had to consider when to stop the boy using his voice even if he knew how important it was for the delicate vocal cords to get used back to talking, even if he knew how important it was for the boy's self awareness - while on the other hand he constantly and carefully had had to consider when to encourage the boy using his voice even if he knew how important it was for the boy's vocal cords to rest and to be treated with care.

And he wasn't sure if he always had made the right decisions, he only could hope. It wasn't as if he had to decide which book to read or what he would have for dinner. The decisions he made now would form the boy's self awareness and his trust, would form the boy's mental and physical strength and his knowledge for the future.

Zilly appeared with his usual soft 'pop' and startled Severus out of his musings, wringing the small and knobby hands in front of an anxious face.

"What is it, Zilly?" The Potions Master asked quietly, watching the small house elf calmly.

"Master Snape, sir." The small creature said, wringing his hands even more. "Zilly has made young master Harry's bed." The house elf threw his little arms up into the air, gave a low squeak away and then continued to eye the Potions Master nervously.

What was it that made Zilly so annoyingly nervous? Why in Merlin's name did this blasted elf act in the typical house elf mannerisms right now after learning a long time ago that he didn't like all of this bowing and hands wringing and punishing crap the house elves lived with since centuries? Didn't Zilly know him long enough by now to know that he could address everything?

"How long are you in my service by now, Zilly?" Severus asked, giving a heavy sigh. Wasn't it enough that Harry still feared him to some extent? And now Zilly started to do so as well? Was the boy's fear contagious? Somehow?

"Since thirty-one years, Master Snape, sir." Zilly answered in a small voice, his head hanging low.

"A long enough time for you to learn that you can address things to me without fearing my wrath, don't you think, Zilly?" The Potions Master asked, placing the quill aside and giving his entire attention to the house elf that had been a companion since his childhood rather than a servant.

"Yes, Master Snape, sir."

"Good." Severus sighed. "Then what is it that disturbs you that much?"

"Well, Master Snape, sir." Zilly said, wringing his hands again. "Zilly has found old food under young master Harry's pillow. Old bread and an apple and crackers. But master Snape sir mustn't think that young master Harry stole the food to do harm …"

"It is well, Zilly." Severus said before the small creature could defend the boy further. He knew Zilly's need to defend children from their parents and he also knew where the house elf's need to do so came from, remembering how often Zilly had defended himself from his abusive father. "I will take care of the matter."

Zilly hung his head even lower now and turned to leave, knowing his master well enough to not give contradictions.

"Zilly." Severus called his house elf back once more, taking pity on the miserable elf.

Zilly turned, looking back at him with overly large eyes.

"I am not my father, Zilly." The Potions Master said quietly. "I won't harm my son."

Smiling at the Potions Master gratefully, Zilly nodded and finally turned to leave.

Severus shook his head with a low mumbled "Merlin", before he placed his head in his hands for a moment.

What in Merlin's name had he gotten himself into the moment he had been born to a young witch and thus had become a wizard? He not only had to deal with a dark wizard but with a mad wizard as well. And he not only had to deal with a school filled with young witches and wizards that needed to be educated, but with a special young wizard named Harry and that was badly damaged as well. And he not only had to deal with teaching potions on said school but with a house elf that – sometimes at least – acted in the most irritable and annoying way imaginable.

Again he was pulled from his musings, this time by a soft knock on the door and he lifted his head, straightened his face into his normally indifferent mask before he called Dudley Dursley into his office.

The boy had finally started to lose a bit of the weight that had Poppy worrying and he inclined his head towards the young muggle, the only muggle that ever had attended Hogwarts.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" The eleven year old asked and Severus nodded at him, pointing at the chair in front of his desk.

"Yes, Mr. Dursley." He said. "Sit."

The boy did as he had been told and sat down onto the chair, not quite perching on the edge of the seat as Harry still always did, but not sitting down comfortably either. He watched him thoughtfully for a few moments.

Dursley junior surely was still not what he would consider a thoughtful and responsible young boy, but he definitely had come a very long way nevertheless and the conversations he had with him, Poppy had with him, had started to take hold pretty well. The boy had settled into his house remarkably well, considering the fact that he was a muggle in the first place and he even had started to get along with his wizarding classmates. He did not have a special friend, aside from Blaze maybe with whom he saw him wandering the grounds from time to time. But there wasn't the resentment between the young muggle and the wizarding children that had been there weeks ago anymore either. It definitely was an improvement.

"How do you feel, Mr. Dursley?" He asked, the question he always started with as he knew that it was important for the boy to know that he cared. It had not been easy, in the beginning, their conversations, but the young muggle had improved here too. He even partook in the weekly meetings he held with all his first years.

"I'm fine, thank you, sir." Dursley answered. "Though there are still some things that give me the creeps."

"You have not only been brought up not knowing magic but you are a muggle too and of course there are still some things that gives you – the creeps – as you so eloquently put it, Mr. Dursley." Severus said, and not for the first time. "But you have learned a lot of new things during the past weeks and with time you will get fully used to being amongst wizards and attending a wizarding school." He leaned forwards and placed his elbows on the desk, steepling his fingers.

"I have heard from other teachers that your grades are acceptable, Mr. Dursley." He said.

Well, the boy's potions work still was anything else than acceptable, but as this boy, contrary to Harry, never had been near a cooking-pot, aside from eating from it, it surely was no wonder. But he had seen essays from the boy concerning other subjects and he had heard from other teachers that they were satisfied with the boy's work.

Especially – and here he felt the temptation to once more shake his head – from Binns. History of magic seemed to be the boy's favorite subject, as strange as it might sound. If the boy continued with this line, then maybe he would be able to work at the ministry one day, as a mediate between the muggle authorities and the ministry of magic maybe. The boy could have a future here in this world if he so wished.

"Well, it isn't so bad, sir." Dursley shrugged. "I think … well … I still miss my parents, but somehow I don't miss the rest."

Inclining his head in acknowledgement Severus leaned back in his chair. He already had seen as much in the boy during the past two weeks or so.

"You do know, Mr. Dursley, that it is you yourself who is forming your life and your future." He said, while crossing his arms in front of his chest. "What will become of you lies in your own hands. We are here to help you, if you are willing to accept this help, but the final decision is yours and yours alone."

"I know, sir." Dursley quietly said, looking aside.

"Do not avert your eyes, Mr. Dursley." Severus said. "You have made your mistakes in your past, but you now have the chance to do better than that. In fact, you already have started to do better than that." He waited until the boy looked back at him and gave an unsure nod before he continued.

"I however have asked you here, Mr. Dursley, to inform you that on Thursday I will take your cousin to potions." He said. "It will be his first lesson since a long time and the damage inflicted upon your cousin is not fully undone yet. So it won't be an easy day for him and I expect you to leave him alone. I will have him seated in the front row beside Draco and close to the door where he will feel much safer than in the middle of the classroom. I want you and Mr. Zabini however to take a seat in the back row and near the Gryffindor side."

"I thought that maybe …" Dursley started, but Severus lifted his hand to halt him.

"I do know that you wish to apologize to your cousin, but believe me, for now it is the best if I keep the both of you apart as Harry will have enough on his head to get used to classes without the fear he automatically will feel in your presence. I won't take you out of class during his first classes but I expect you to obey and leave him alone until I say otherwise. Is that understood, Mr. Dursley?"

"Yes, sir." The boy said gloomily.

"Good." Severus resisted the urge to give a sigh of relief. "You will be able to visit him in a few days so the both of you can have a few minutes without your classmates and in the privacy of our quarters, but you will leave him alone until then."

"Ok." Dursley nodded, but then he looked up at him. "So it is true?" He asked.

"Is what true, Mr. Dursley?" Severus lifted his eyebrow at the student in front of him. "I still do prefer coherent and eloquent sentences."

"I mean, that Po- … that Harry is your son, sir?" The boy asked, his eyes large.

"Yes, it is true." Severus finally gave that sigh he had tried to suppress for the past quarter of an hour since the young Dursley boy was in his office. "And yes, that makes us relatives too, what however won't change anything as I still am the same guardian to you as I have been before."

"I know, sir." Dudley Dursley said, blushing, and Severus lifted his eyebrow curiously at the boy. "I rather meat … well … I think, Potter, I mean Harry, he deserves having a father." The boy blushed even more at that statement and again averted his eyes, and Severus sighed again before getting to his feet and rounding his desk, sitting on the edge of the furniture.

"Eyes up, Dursley!" He said, nodding in satisfaction when the boy obeyed immediately. "You have come a long way, Mr. Dursley, concerning your understanding of not only the wizarding world but your cousin and what the abuse he had been through at the hands of your parents means. To express your understanding and to say that your cousin deserves to finally have a family who actually cares, is no reason to be ashamed."

He watched the boy nod his head before he continued.

"And this family, it is not only I but you as his cousin as well." He said. "We will have to go on this slowly, but I do wish you to be part of Harry's family."

"Yes, sir." The boy said, even if he looked doubtful and quite miserable, and the Potions Master was sure he knew the reason as to why. This boy was as open as a book and he easily could be a Hufflepuff.

"You do not think that Harry would forgive you." He simply stated. "You think he would not want you as a family."

Dudley Dursley did not give him a verbal answer but simply nodded, averting his yes again before looking back at him and for a moment Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, considering his next words.

"I am not able to give you an answer to this particular question, Mr. Dursley, as it is up to your cousin alone. He will have to make this decision and I cannot and will not tell him what to do. I however can tell you, that Harry is a person that is much more forgiving than is good for him. You simply will have to wait and see."

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When Harry entered the kitchen this evening for dinner Severus was already sitting at the table. He knew well why Harry had stashed away food and neither did he blame the boy for it nor was he angry at him. But nevertheless – he wouldn't allow the boy to suffer from his fears to a point where he felt the need to hide food for times when he feared he wouldn't get some.

So he had taken everything he had found under the boy's pillow after Zilly had called his attention to the child's food saving and had placed it on top of the counter. First he had thought to place the food on the table in front of him for Harry to see as soon as he entered the kitchen and to wait for the boy's reaction to that. He surely would have done so with each and every of his other Slytherins. But at the same time he had known exactly that Harry was a special case and that he could not handle _that _boy as he did with his other students. Not because Harry was his son, he would not make that difference, but because he knew exactly what Harry's reaction would be and because he knew that he would do more harm than good with this action.

The boy had started to trust him. He had started to come to him when he felt miserable, when he felt afraid or when he was in pain. He had started to use the signs he had taught him, he had started to communicate with him, he had started to tell him what those wretched muggle relatives had done to him over the years and most importantly, the boy had started to speak, even if he had not spoken since only Merlin knew how many years. But the boy still feared him and he knew, one single mistake and he would undo all they had managed over the past two months. He wouldn't risk that.

So he had placed the retrieved food onto the counter behind him, out of sight but close enough so he could reach behind to take some of them while confronting the boy, should he need to do so. He however hoped that Harry would not deny, hoped that the boy trusted him enough that he wouldn't start lying.

"Sit." He said, pointing at the boy's chair when Harry lingered in the doorway as always. It was a problem that repeated itself three times a day since six weeks now, a problem they would have to work at – like at so many others, he thought sighing, noticing that the boy eyed him warily, tiredly, obeying only slowly and hesitantly. Harry definitely knew that something was amiss from the stern tone he had used. He sighed again.

But it was of no use, he simply had to address the matter, he simply couldn't allow the boy to suffer from those fears any longer. So he could do so now and be over with it and hopefully the boy wouldn't take it too bad and still speak to him at the end of their discussion.

"We have something to discuss, Harry." He said, his voice still stern and he fixed his son with his dark and serious eyes.

"Yes, s-sir?" The boy asked, unsurely.

Severus realized that he didn't ask 'yes, dad?' but 'yes, sir?', acknowledging the seriousness of the situation, and displaying his respect, just as he had known he would do.

"You do know that you always will have enough to eat, don't you, Harry?" He asked, not really sure where and how to begin.

"Y-yes … s-sir." Came the unsure answer from the boy that averted his eyes.

"And you do know that I never would withhold food from you, don't you, child?" He asked.

A nod came from his son who still did not look at him and Severus knew that Harry knew what would come next and waited for the verdict, and maybe for his punishment.

"Please look at me, Harry." Severus said sternly, reaching over and taking the boy's chin between his fingers, lifting the child's head. "And please answer my question verbally. You are able to and I expect you to do so." He added, piercing the boy's green eyes sternly with his dark ones.

"Y-yes, s- yes, s-sir." Harry answered, swallowing nervously. "I … I do … I do kn-know."

"Good." The Potions Master said, not able to keep his pleasure at the boy's answer out of his voice. Harry had not only answered his last question but the original one as well. He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping his next words wouldn't startle the boy into silence. He was afraid, yes, ha had to admit that. He actually felt fear. Fear that he would destroy what they had managed with such hard work during the past weeks. And hard work it had been.

But nevertheless he couldn't back away now. And he wouldn't do so either. This here was important. Not to mention that he simply couldn't back away every time the boy did something stupid. Harry was an eleven year old child after all and the boy definitely would get in one or other kind of trouble. He couldn't always back away then and let the boy have his way just because he feared Harry could have a relaps.

So – he took a deep breath before asking his next question.

"Do you know what I have found in your room, Harry?" He finally asked. "Under your pillow, to be precise?"

The boy again averted his eyes, even if he wasn't able to turn his face away as he still had a strong grip on the child's chin. But then he nodded before he seemed to remember that he wanted a verbal answer and a small "y-yes … y-yes, sir" was heard from the child's lips, the voice small and trembling and tears beginning to form in those green eyes.

"I … I'm … I'm sor- I'm sorry." Came the next words, not only spoken but signed as well, as if the boy felt the need to underline his words.

For a moment Severus was startled at _how _proud he was at his child for admitting the truth and not trying to get out of the situation and an – in the child's mind – possible punishment with a lie. He knew children that were lying out of fear and thus he knew how hard it was for an abused child not to do so.

"Look at me." He said. "You did nothing that was your fault and you actually are a very obedient and respectful child. You are intelligent and you are courageous. So there is no reason for you to avert your eyes and look away. Others will have to manage yet doing as well as you actually are doing."

Slowly the boy looked back at him then and the Potions Master nodded satisfied.

"That's much better." He said. "First, Harry, I thank you for your honest answer. You did not lie out of fear and I do acknowledge that as it is what I always will expect of you. Second, you did nothing wrong. I want you to know this. You are allowed to take food to your room, even if it is not necessary as you always will get enough food so you never ever will feel hungry. You are allowed to take food to your room. But I do not wish you doing so secretly and I do not wish you hiding food underneath your pillow. If you feel the need to have access for something to eat in your room, then I will have Zilly keeping a bowl with fruits on your desk. But never hide food in your room out of fear there might be a time you might be in need of such reserves, for it never will happen. Do you understand?"

Harry did look at the Potions Master, at his father, at those words, but the Professor's familiar face blurred because of the tears he still tried to keep under control, and then, suddenly he _was _crying, harsh racking sobs that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him, even if he didn't even knoe why. He didn't want to be such a crying baby, but somehow he just couldn't stop it.

Yes, he did understand his father's words. But somehow this time he couldn't give an answer. Not because he didn't believe him, he knew that the man wouldn't starve him, but because alone those words were too much for him. No one had ever assured him like this, no one had ever given him such safety, and no one had ever treated him friendly – aside from the Professor.

And just like so often during the past weeks, he somehow couldn't handle it.

Severus got up from his chair and turned, banished the food the boy had hidden beneath his pillow, not needing it on the counter anymore and not wishing the boy to see it there now either, before he took a glass from the rack and poured some water from a pitcher beside the sink while Harry was sitting at the table, still crying, his eyes closed and his little fingers twisted into a knot in his lap. So he didn't see him pouring half a vial of calming draught into the glass before turning back towards Harry.

He knew what was going through the boy, had dealt with this particular emotion the child felt right now often enough by now.

"Drink this, child." He said, turning back to his son and reaching the glass towards the boy. He watched him untangling his fingers which trembled when he extended his hand to take the glass, the small shoulders still shaking with the sobs from the boy and he took a deep breath to calm his own nerves. At least he hadn't startled the boy into silence.

"Listen to me, Harry." He said after the boy had emptied the glass of water he had laced with the calming draught, coming close and kneeling in front of his son, placing his hands on top of the boy's knees, looking into the frightened green eyes. "I am not angry at you, child, and I actually can understand your actions. But I want you to know that it is not necessary. How long are you here now, child?" He asked, not sure if Harry actually knew how much time had passed since the start of term.

"S-since … since … n-nearly … since nearly … nearly … s-seven weeks." The boy whispered.

"Exactly." The Potions Master nodded. "Have you once been hungry since you are here, Harry?" He asked, knowing that the question wasn't fair, but that it was necessary for the child to see this little fact.

"N-no, sir." Harry answered, averting his eyes and nearly sobbing again.

"There is no need to avert your eyes, Harry." Severus said, running his fingers over the boy's forehead. "I do know that you did not hide the food because you consciously would accuse me of starving you. You only did so out of habit and fear you unconsciously have. Ten years cannot be undone by only seven weeks, Harry and I do know that."

He sighed heavily for a moment.

"Believe me, child, there will be a lot more of such situations before you will be a young man that is released from school and into the world out there to go his own way. But you are strong and intelligent and you will learn. Nothing and no one can undo what has been done to you for such a long time, but we can work on that from here and we will manage to get you into a teenager and then into a young man. We will manage that together."

"Y-you … you are … you are n-not … not … ang-ang-ang-ry … not angry?" Harry asked, staring into black eyes that had become his anchor in the past weeks without him knowing why.

"If I were angry at every stupid stunt a student, one of the teachers, the headmaster or one of the house elves pulls, then I would be a very miserable man indeed." He said, his eyebrow lifted. He would not admit that little fact to the rest of his students however. "So – no, child, I am _not _angry at you."

"C-could … y-you … could you … hold … hold me … please?" Came a question that startled the Potions Master more than anything else the boy would have been able to ask or say and for a moment he wasn't able to keep his face his normal strait mask.

The voice that question had been asked in had been small and trembling, dripping with uncertainty and fear. It had been the voice of a small and frightened child and Severus had to take a deep breath at the thought of how many times this child had asked for such a small thing and how many times he had been beaten for the question before he had learned that this question was a forbidden one for him, that he was not to ask for such a small act of comfort like being held.

And nevertheless – now the child had managed to overcome all the rejections and all the fear he had learned to know for years and had dared to ask this simple question once more. Towards him, Severus Snape.

The thin knees underneath his hands were trembling horribly, the entire small form was shaking with fear when Severus pulled the chilled into his arms, placing one hand at the boy's neck and running the other one slowly up and down the thin and rigid back.

"You foolish, little serpent." Severus whispered. "Have I not told you that you are always welcome?"

Something like relief flashed in the boy's green eyes and he sighed, visibly relaxed and then leaned forward, collapsing against the man's chest and inhaling the always calming scent that clung to the man.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus tiredly sank into the armchair after he had poured himself and Herbaceous some of his whiskey.

"I do not really know why I am still so shocked after seeing _how _badly beaten he was, but every time I think it cannot get worse, it does. To get him used to a bed, to meals, to a bath, to toys … and now he still feels the need to safe food and hide it for times in which he could be starved."

"Do you remember how long it had taken _you_ to trust, Severus?" Herbaceous asked, fixing him with his own dark eyes and Severus could feel the sharp gaze piercing him, like so often before. It was a gaze he himself often looked at his Slytherins with, he knew, and for a moment he wondered if he probably had learned this special look from the older man. "Do you remember how long it had taken _you_ to accept my help without feeling the need to think about payments I might expect of you? Until you had learned that there was no need to fear there might be a day we would abandon you?"

"I do remember, Herbaceous." The Potions Master answered quietly but seriously. "And I do understand why Harry feels the need to do as he does. I just do not know what to do to help the boy."

"A question I have asked myself more than once back in those years when we were young, my dear friend." Herbaceous said, lifting his eyebrow at him. "And don't think about an apology, young man!" He added when the Potions Master opened his mouth with a particularly guilty look on his face. "I guess however, you can't do anything else than what you have done this morning – namely simply talking to your son. It was what I always have done and it seemed to have worked. Even if I sometimes doubt your sanity."

"You can talk, Herbaceous!" The younger wizard growled. "Sometimes I think I have inherited my insanity – around other things – from you."

The older wizard only chuckled light heartedly, before he got serious again.

"What will come next now, Severus?" He then asked.

"Well, Thursday I will take Harry with me to potions for the first time and from next week on I will get him used to classes and his classmates slowly but surely."

"It has been time for that." Herbaceous nodded his head.

"I know." Severus sighed. "But honestly, the last events kept me from taking Harry to classes earlier. He had been downright lethargic and I didn't know how to get the boy back."

"Yes, Severus." Herbaceous smiled at the worried man he knew as a rather cold and indifferent man. "But maybe your son had needed this time within his own mind to get clear with not only all the changes that had taken place for the boy in such a short time, but with himself as well. And considering that he has now started to speak after so many years, proves that your son has managed a really great step. He has outdone himself, Severus."

"That he has indeed." The Potions Master quietly said, his voice strangely rough and hoarse and his eyes strangely distant. It definitely was a look that the owner of the animal shop in Diagon Alley seldom had seen on the man he knew since such long years now.

"He is your son, Severus, and he has proven to be as strong as you are. You have come a very long way too."

Severus didn't answer to that comment, just gazed at the older wizard for a moment before he took a sip of the tumbler containing whiskey in his hand and Herbaceous did not press the comment either.

"Will he manage?" He asked instead.

"He won't be alone in the beginning so he has time to get used to not only classes but to the other students as well as the large space when leaving these safe quarters." Severus answered, feeling more confident with this subject. "Tomorrow I will have a few last words with Harry and in the evening Minerva and Filius will come over so we can discuss the last preparations, but I already have taken a few steps to ensure that nothing will go wrong. Harry isn't the first child I have here and that needs to be led back to regular classes after all."

"I do know this, Severus." Herbaceous said smiling. "What is the reason your display of being the evil dungeon bastard is on shaky ground, my dear friend."

"You give word of this away, _my dear friend_, and you will find yourself in the worst trouble imaginable." Severus countered with an upraised eyebrow, causing the older wizard to chuckle lightly again.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was nearly two hours later and the Potions Master just was about to have a last look at his son before he would go to bed himself when a knock on his door made him turn mid step. Admittedly, it wasn't really late, but he had grown used to going to bed rather early, knowing that he needed his sleep as much as Harry if he wished to care for the child properly. And as it had been Minerva who had taught him this particular lesson, he doubted that it would be the woman standing behind his door now.

But knowing that it neither was Filius nor one of his students, considering the position on the door the knock came from and considering the fact that the knock was a bit too confident for _that_, he groaned, actually bearing in mind to simply ignore the knock and to let the old man standing outside his door. But then he gave a deep sigh and walked over to the door, opening it with a scowl on his face to find – he had known – the headmaster standing there.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit to such a late hour, headmaster?" He asked, his voice rather cool but calm.

"I just wondered if you had the time for – a word, Severus."

The Potions Master still stood in the doorway, unmoving, his dark eyes hard and cold while gazing at the headmaster, before he stepped aside to allow the old wizard in. But just as the last time he neither took a seat, nor did he offer something to drink to his employer. He only cast a silencing charm towards Harry's room and then extended his hand towards one of the armchairs to indicate the man could take a seat. He however didn't start the conversation, stood still, his hands resting on the backrest of the other armchair.

"I wanted to apologize, Severus." Albus finally said, looking up at him, but he didn't smile and his eyes didn't have this usual annoyingly sparkle. "I am sorry, Severus. I am truly sorry."

"And you think that will be enough, headmaster?" The Potions Master calmly asked. "Not only have you kept my son from me for years in order to use me as a spy for your war, but you also risked Lily's life while getting her married with Potter, a man that neither had taken the responsibility to keep his wife and her son save nor had shown any responsibilities towards herself in making her happy but instead had made her a forgotten trophy. I even will go as far as to say that Lily still could be alive if you had allowed her to marry me instead of Potter. It is true –" His voice got colder and he lifted his hand to keep the headmaster silent the moment Albus opened his mouth to say something.

"It is true, that it has been _me_ who brought the prophecy to the Dark Lord, yes. But it never would have happened if I had been married with Lily in the first place. I have been the spy that you have created, headmaster, maybe you think about this little fact. I have Lily's death upon my hands, yes. But you are not innocent either. You have schemed and planned from the beginning. And now you expect me to simply accept your apology?"

Crossing his arms in front of his chest he leaned against the bookshelf, still fixing the older wizard with hard black eyes.

"Then you take my son and place him with his abusive relatives. You place him at their doorsteps without knowing they would keep him, you leave him there for ten miserable years without checking up on him once and then you even plan on sending him back to those monsters that nearly had killed the boy. Your – your blood wards you always claimed being there to keep the boy safe, they are blasted crap and you know this. They fell the moment the Dursleys raised their hands at the boy for the first time, what had been ten years ago. And believe me, I do not exaggerate. The scars that cover Harry's body are proof of that. You never even had a look at him since he is here, headmaster. Because you do not care. And now you expect me to simply accept your apology?"

"It is the only thing I can offer, Severus." Albus said, knowing that the younger wizard was right. But he really had nothing else to offer to the young man. Nothing that would be anywhere near enough to be appropriate. "I only can offer you my apology, Severus."

"Why, headmaster?" Severus simply asked and Albus knew that the young teacher that stood there didn't mean why he had nothing else to offer to him aside from an apology, but that he meant why he had kept Harry from him in the first place and why he had placed him with the Dursleys.

"It is true, Severus." He sighed, his voice tired and his face older than it normally appeared, knowing he could not lie to the man right now, knowing that he had to be honest if he wished to … to what? To regain the young man's friendship? His trust? His understanding? Sighing he shook his head. "It is true, that I have known Harry would not have the best childhood with the Dursleys. But I needed Harry to be strong enough to one day face Voldemort. I couldn't risk the boy being coddled and spoiled. But I never, believe me, Severus, I never knew that they actually would abuse the boy to such an extent."

"But you knew that they _would_ abuse him." Severus simply accused.

"I thought it possible, yes." Albus quietly admitted. "But I only thought about the possibility of slight abuse. Never to such an extent."

"Child abuse, never mind how serious, is never acceptable, headmaster." Severus growled darkly. "And you as a headmaster of a boarding school such as Hogwarts no less, should know this."

"I do know this, Severus." Albus said, his blue eyes trying to pierce the younger man – without success. "But I had to think about the future too. I had to think about Harry facing Voldemort one day. Do you think that Ronald Weasley would be able to defend Voldemort one day?"

Severus' huff was an answer in and on itself but the Potions Master didn't say anything to that. Not yet at least.

"But I thought, if Harry knew a harsh life, if Harry knew what it meant to be strong, then he would manage one day. I thought that … I simply tried to think at the future, Severus."

"Ah." Severus made. "You thought yourself so vise then, didn't you? You knew what the future would bring and so you carried out a plane of your own devising, risking his mind and his body in the act, hoping that it would help him to grow strong and be your weapon one day to be used against the Dark Lord."

He pushed himself off the bookshelf and stepped closer.

"But you forgot some things, old man." He hissed angrily. "First, you did not think about the fact that maybe the Dursleys would abuse the boy to such an extent where he simply would not be able to act as your weapon anymore because he either would be dead or damaged beyond what could be put back together. What actually is the case, old man. You can be lucky that the boy has survived in the first place, but he never will be able to act your weapon. Second, you did not think about the fact that I might find out one day, or you simply did not care. And third, you forgot that _if _I found out, that I would not allow you to use my son any further."

"You are right, Severus, as so often." Albus sighed heavily. "And again, I only can apologize for my mistake."

"This has not been a simple mistake, headmaster." Severus growled darkly. "It was not a decision as to what poison to take upon the Dark Lord to get rid of him or as to what spell to use upon the Dark Lord to get rid of him. It has been a human being you have been playing with. You have yet again destroyed the life of a living child. And your apology will not help Harry."

"No, it won't, Severus." Albus sadly said. "And neither will my resignation. But at least it will give you the freedom to stay with your son here at Hogwarts. Minerva will take over as headmistress and I already have nominated you as deputy headmaster. That at least will give you the opportunity to act with your Slytherins more freely and as you think it necessary. And with your son. I am sorry, Severus, that I have made this mistakes. I do know that it isn't nearly enough, but this apology is the only thing I can offer to you."

"So you plan on extricate yourself from your responsibility by simply resigning and …"

"Dad?" A small and frightened voice caused the Potions Master to turn sharply and his dark eyes that still blazed with anger fell onto the small form of Harry standing in the doorway, visibly upset upon hearing his angry voice and right now retreating a step upon seeing the fury in his eyes too that right now were on him and quickly Severus schooled his face into his usual indifferent mask, silently cursing himself for losing his temper like this.

He was angry, yes. He was more than simply angry, yes. But he was not angry at Harry.

Quickly he reached out with his senses and after ensuring that the silencing charm still was in place he knew that the boy had not been eavesdropping on their conversation but probably just had woken, unable to go back to sleep and simply had been in search for him. So the boy had done nothing wrong and he should keep his temper under control as long as the boy was present.

Albus on the other hand had his eyes fixed upon the boy that he had been expecting to be a Gryffindor like his parents had been, that he had been written off after he had been sorted into Slytherin and the moment his blue eyes met with the green ones that reminded him so much at Lily, he knew that he had been making more than just a simple mistake, he knew that Severus was right again.

Of course he had seen the boy before, during the welcoming feast, during the sorting ceremony, but back then he only had seen the savior of the wizarding world, back then he had seen only 'The-Boy-Who-Lived', but not Harry, the child. And of course he had noticed back then that the boy was smaller than his classmates, but he had not really paid much attention to this little fact, having been just too excited. He only had seen that the boy that had been destined to vanquish Voldemort from the moment on he had been born, being back in the wizarding world to finally end what he had begun ten years ago when Harry Potter had been just a year old.

But now he stood in front of this boy, weeks after the start of term, and suddenly he knew that Severus was right, that Severus always had been right – he should have visited the boy. He should have visited the boy back during all those years while being with the Dursleys and he should have visited the boy while being with the Potions Master. Now he stood in front of this boy that looked so small and fragile, backing away and looking up at Severus' larger form, gazing into the Potions Master's face with his much too large and frightened eyes, into the dark eyes that had been blazing with fury a moment ago and that slowly but surely got calm again.

"Hush, child." Severus' voice got him out of his thoughts and he looked back at the younger wizard that had been a teacher of this school for many years now and he actually held his breath when watching the usually so dark and cold man interacting with the child that was his son.

He knew Severus, knew him more than any other teacher on this school, had always trusted the young man and even if he knew that the students hated their Potions Master, he knew that he not only had kept them safe, always, but he also knew that those whom he took into his NEWT class graduated Hogwarts with the best marks in potions possible. Severus Snape was a more than just strict teacher, accepting only the best of behavior and effort in studies from all of the students, never mind which house they were from, but he always brought forth many NEWT students that could become Potions Masters by themselves.

And now this man that always was so cold, sarcastic and even cruel to his students, lowered himself down onto one knee in front of a first year, in front of this child, and placed his hands on the small and – he registered with a wince – bony shoulders while locking his now warm and concerned black eyes with the frightened green ones.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Easy, child." The Potions Master said. "I am not angry with you, Harry. You have done nothing wrong and you have nothing to fear. Did you have a nightmare?"

Severus could see Harry shaking his head, frightened eyes finally going from him to Albus who still stood behind him and he hoped that right now Harry simply was too mortified to speak in his stuttering way in front of the headmaster. The only other option had him too terrified as it would be that Harry had been startled and frightened enough to again lose his voice.

"Do you need something, Harry?" He asked, ignoring Albus' presence and trying to get as much information as possible as to how his son felt and at the same time trying to get a verbal answer from the boy.

Well, he seemed to be on the lucky side tonight, he noticed when the boy gave him a very quietly whispered "n-need … y-you … need you" that surely not could have been heard by Albus, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Picking his son up as if he were a small child he placed his hand on the boy's back when Harry sneaked his thin arms around his neck in the simplest way to express his needs right now, in a way only a child could show, while the boy's head had become to rest on his left shoulder.

He turned towards the older wizard he still was angry at and he had to take a deep breath to ensure he would not snap at the man he felt betrayed by.

"As pleasant as our conversation has been, headmaster, I believe that it is time for you to leave now." He calmly said. "My son is tired as am I and both of us do need our rest as Harry will have to attend at least two classes the day after tomorrow."

Knowing that he had been defeated yet again, and somehow knowing that he would be defeated next time as well, Albus turned and slowly made his way towards the door. The way Severus had handled this child, his son, had told him enough about the Potions Master's feelings towards the child and the way Harry had reacted when being picked up by his father had told him enough as well. Severus had found his lost heart in this child and this child had found his lost childhood in this man.

And even after all the mistakes he had made ten years ago the night Lily and James had died, even back then he'd had his chance. He'd had his chance the evening Harry had come to Hogwarts, the evening Harry had come back to the wizarding world. If he only had not written off the boy after he had been sorted into Slytherin. If he only had listened to Severus the moment he had entered his office to inform him of the abuse Harry had been through for ten years. If only then he had told his Potions Master the truth and if only he had entrusted the boy officially in Severus care then.

But he had messed up – yet again.

He not only had accused Severus of exaggerating. He too had clearly stated that he wanted to send the boy back to an abusive household. And he only had agreed to Severus adopting the boy after the man had threatened him with leaving his position as a Potions Master within Hogwarts. But the worst what he had done – he still had kept the information from Severus that the boy was his son.

And then Severus had found out by himself, before he – Albus – had the chance to tell him, what most probably had been the fall that had finally broken his neck. Or Severus' already constantly fading trust.

Turning slowly back towards the man who still stood beside the door that led to Harry's room, still carrying his son, his body slightly turned so as if shielding the boy from him, Albus, and still gazing at him with anger blazing in his black eyes, he looked back upon the dark figure.

"I do know that you are angry, Severus, and you have every right to be." He finally said. "I have been an old fool. But I do hope that you are able to forgive me one day."

He got no answer from the younger wizard and the silence in which the Potions Master watched him was worse than the angry words he had spoken to him earlier. It somehow made the entire situation so real. It made clear just how angry Severus was at him and he only could feel sad at that thought. He had made a lot of mistakes in his many years of life, but this one with Severus – and now Harry – had been his worst mistake ever. If only the other man could forgive him one day.

But he could understand that Severus wouldn't do so right now, and he could understand that Severus wasn't ready to give him an answer right now either.

"I will be leaving Hogwarts soon, during the next few days." He tried once more. "I would be happy if you allowed me to …" Here he took a deep breath before preparing himself for the young man's rejection that surely was to come. "… to visit."

Severus watched the older wizard that had been a friend to him for more than ten years now, that not only had been his headmaster and later on his employer, but his mentor and trusted adviser. The man whom he always had been able to count on, the man that always had been there for him, that always had defended him, and suddenly he didn't know what to do.

He had trusted Albus, always, and he always had done what Albus had asked of him, knowing that it not only always had been necessary, but that the old man always had been grateful too. They had worked hand in hand together, with the knowledge that they could trust each other. Yes – as strange as it might still sound to him, Albus always had trusted him, Severus Snape, former Death Eater and follower to the Dark Lord too.

But now Albus had breached this trust, and in a most horrible way. He not only had kept his son from him for eleven years, and Lily too, but he also had placed his son with his abusive relatives for ten years and thus had risked not only his health in body and mind, but his life too. Not to mention the damage that actually had been done to the boy, the damage he right now was working at to mend as good as possible.

He did not really want to lose the old fool as a friend, but he was angry at him, more than angry if he had to be honest with himself, and rightfully so.

Considering the old man's reactions to the information that Harry actually had been abused, back then in Albus' office, at the start of term, he at first had been sure that Albus had known about the extend of this abuse. But now he wasn't so sure anymore. He actually did believe the old meddling coot that he had not known how far the Dursleys would go.

And Albus had apologized, had even handed in his resignation. But was it so easy?

And more importantly, was he, Severus, ready to forgive Albus so soon? And Harry? Would Harry be safe if he allowed Albus to visit on a regular basis? Would Albus really accept that he wanted freedom for his son and for himself? Or would Albus try to still use his son as a weapon in this war against the Dark Lord? And him as a spy?

Cradling the small form in his arms that should be much larger closer for a moment he gave a sigh and lowered his head for a moment, closing his eyes and trying to calm his nerves, his anger and his disappointment. He ran his fingers through the black hair of his son who still rested his head on his left shoulder, but then he lifted his head, reopened his eyes and looked at the old headmaster.

"I cannot answer you this question, old man." He quietly said. "Not now. Right now I am angry at you beyond what I ever thought would be possible and you know that. I need time to think a few things over, Albus. For my son and for myself. Ask me again in my next life, but not now."

Knowing that Severus not really had meant his next life but the next month or maybe the next year, and knowing that the younger wizard not only needed but also deserved his time, Albus inclined his head. He knew that it was more than what he had expected, than what he actually deserved.

"Thank you, Severus." He said, his voice strangely weak and rough. "For not rejecting me outright." And with this words he left the Potions Master's private quarters, silently closing the door behind him and leaving an unsure young teacher and a frightened young child behind to go their own ways.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Severus has to __take preparations for Harry's first lessons … _

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you


	43. final preparations

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

well ... I still – or again – say thank you to all those who sent me get well wishes and I once again have to apologize for another delay of a new chapter, but actually my wrist had given me quite some trouble lately as I already explained on my profile. I do however promise to continue working on my stories, even if it is a slow going at the moment.

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Knowing that Severus not really had meant his next life but the next month or maybe the next year, and knowing that the younger wizard not only needed but also deserved his time, Albus inclined his head. He knew that it was more than what he had expected, than what he actually deserved._

_"Thank you, Severus." He said, his voice strangely weak and rough. "For not rejecting me outright." And with this words he left the Potions Master's private quarters, silently closing the door behind him and leaving an unsure young teacher and a frightened young child behind to go their own ways._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter forty-two**

**Final preparations**

"I still am worried about Draco, Severus." Lucius said, placing the cup of tea he had been drinking from back at the table. "I still do wish to divorce from Narcissa, the woman definitely _had _overstepped her boundaries too much and too often. She has not simply risked my son's life, but my son's sanity and his soul. Knowingly, and more than once. I would not want my son living such a live, Severus."

"Then do it, Lucius." Severus said. "Draco is old enough and sensible enough to know that it is what is right and he will know that it was the right decision you made."

"But I am not sure how Draco will take it, mentally, aside from the knowledge. And will I be able to raise the boy without his mother? It always had been Narcissa who had cared for the boy. I had little to nothing to do with the boy's upbringing."

"First." Severus said, fixing the blond with his black eyes seriously. "If you wish to divorce, then you should not consider it with Draco in the back of your mind. Draco would feel it and he would react to it in his own way. If you stay with Narcissa out of worry for Draco, the boy will be the one paying in the end. Not to mention what she could do to the boy while having free reign over him. Divorce if you so wish, but do not make it depended on the boy." He watched Lucius Malfoy who slowly nodded his head.

"Second, you are Draco's father and I am sure you will be able to provide him with the education that you deem adequate." He then continued. "You have your house elves too, Lucius – and me, if you so wish. You are not alone. I do agree with you that Narcissa only will have a bad influence on Draco and I actually wonder how much of an influence she already had on the boy. The incident with the potion however proves that your son still has a sense for right and wrong. On the other hand this incident at the same times proves that Narcissa surely won't be fit to raise the boy or any child further without causing harm to him one day."

"You are right, Severus." Lucius Malfoy answered slowly.

"As always." Severus smirked.

The blond aristocrat smirked back at him. "As it seems." He agreed, inclining his head towards the Potions Master. "And I still cannot express how grateful I am for your acceptance and your thoughtful reactions during our last conversation, Severus. What Narcissa had done, is unforgivable and I feared that you would hold it against me."

"It has not been you, Lucius, who wrote those letters, and others, but your wife." Severus answered, remembering a day a week or so ago. "So it has not been your fault."

**Flashback**

_The boy finally was __deeply asleep, exhausted beyond his limits from his sobbing, and he just needed a few minutes alone and outside, he needed a moment of fresh air and sunshine, and he needed a moment to get his thoughts together. To settle the boy to sleep had been quite easy, remarkably easy he had to admit, but well, Harry had been too far gone for any arguments. Not that this boy ever tried to argue with him over anything in the first place. No, this boy only tried to please in order to get the affection and love he needed and so long had missed while living with those damn muggles. _

_The boy even had slept on while he had taken the drops of blood from his finger, only slightly whimpering in his sleep. _

_But then, while he still had pondered over what that meant for him, actually being Harry's biological father, not only his adoptive father, the boy had suffered from a nightmare and it had taken him some time to get him calm and settled back to sleep. Well, even if he hadn't been Harry's biological father, it came naturally to him meanwhile, caring for the boy after a nightmare. Ensuring that the boy ate enough, ensuring that the boy had enough sleep and doing the physical exercises with the boy, brewing potions with him, talking to him. Simply – being a father._

_So – well, of course it meant something to him, but he wasn't quite sure what exactly it meant as – nothing had changed for him. He was Harry's father either way._

_So – right now he was on his way to the back yard, to visit the weeping willow and to think over what had happened during the past hours. The trial, Bones' words, his return to Hogwarts, Harry's reaction – or the lack thereof – and finally his discovery._

_The weeping willow he had planted ten years ago had been a refuge for him for many years now and with a small smile on his otherwise so harsh face he remembered that this tree had become a refuge for his son too. Harry often had been sitting underneath this tree, thinking, dreaming, and sometimes even weeping, and he …_

_"Severus!" He heard from behind and he immediately recognized the voice and turned, __schooling his face into an unreadable mask. "Severus! Please! Wait a moment, I beg you!"_

_Well, n__ow he had to keep himself from blinking in near shock. Lucius? Begging someone for something? That definitely was a first one. The aristocrat ordered, or he – at the best – asked for something, but he never begged. That wasn't Lucius Malfoy. _

_Might it be that … but no. Narcissa was arrested and held in a cell at the ministry, probably waiting for her own trial. _

_The man that hurried towards him looked worried and actually upset. But well, he had acted out of character earlier, during the trial, so – he shouldn't be too surprised. _

_"I beg you, Severus, please, I have to talk to you." The older Malfoy said after reaching him and after a moment and a searching glance Severus nodded. The other man looked worried, concerned, troubled even, but he didn't look as if he were up to something.  
_

_"Of course, Lucius." He said, stopping at his office and leading his way in. "I would invite you into my quarters, but I do not wish to disturb Harry. The boy had not slept since me being arrested."_

_"Understandable." Lucius quietly said and Severus arched an eyebrow at him. "However, Severus, and this is important. I have learned from Narcissa that she had ordered Draco to poison Potter. I do not know what potion she gave my son for doing so, but I fear the worst. Please, Severus, I do not wish my son killing a person, killing another child, with eleven years. You have to find out what potion …"_

_"Calm down, Lucius." Severus said. He still didn't know what side Lucius pulled at, but he knew that if he didn't calm the blond wizard down, then he would take steps to stop Draco himself and with that he might do more harm than good. "I already do know about this potion and I can assure you, your son had enough sense in his brain to come to me with it instead of using it on another child. Harry is safe and your son did not commit a crime."_

_"Thank Merlin!" Lucius breathed a sigh of relief and finally stopped his pacing, sank – rather unceremoniously __– __down into one of the chairs. "You do know that I still believe into the old ways, Severus, and I am sure you also do know that it won't change over all this fuss the past few days, but never over the soul of my son and never over the death of another child. I might be mad, but not as mad as the Dark Lord had been during his last months. I even go as far as wishing for my son more than becoming a Death Eater one day. I do not regret my choices, but I began to see long ago that there is more than one way to hold the old ways true."_

_The Potions Master locked his hard and black eyes into the grey ones of Lucius Malfoy for more than a minute, trying to read the man's expression, trying to consider it safe to bring up his next question. But then he nodded and decided to ask. Lucius was a Death Eater, always had been, and a loyal one at that. But he also knew that Lucius long ago had seen some reason. He was not the typical Death Eater like the others. And he never would abandon a child – or his friends over the Dark Lord. Lucius Malfoy did not hold this kind of madness._

_"Had this been the reason as to why you never reported my actions to the Dark Lord and even covered my attempts to help the Dark Lord's victims?" Severus dared to ask. _

_Dared – well, there actually was nothing to dare as Lucius actually had known about those attempts – and actually had covered them often enough. But he knew that he treated thin ice right now nevertheless. _

_"Actually – yes, Severus." Lucius answered. "And I would do so again if the Dark Lord one day would arise again. I am not stupid, Severus, and I do know that – if the Dark Lord will rise again, what could be quite possible – then we won't get out of this easily. Getting into the Dark Lord's ranks is a task until death. His – or ours. And I do know that by then he might be even more mad. So yes, I actually would do the same again. I only would advise you to be more careful then, Severus. I might not always be there then."_

_"I do appreciate your actions, Lucius." Severus sighed. "And I do appreciate your warning too, but unlike some of the other Death Eaters I do not take pleasure in torturing innocent muggles and surely not in torturing women and children. It is one thing to follow the old ways, but it is another thing to torture and kill innocent people. I am a Potions Master and thus I am a healer. And as a healer I have sworn an oath. An oath to never watch and stand aside if someone is in pain, injured or in need of help. So – I simply would not be able to be more careful should the Dark Lord come back one day, and I guess you do know this already."_

_"Yes, I do." Lucius answered. "I simply had to try, my old friend."_

_"And I simply cannot heed your advise, my old friend."_

**End flashback**

And right now Severus Snape was sitting in one of the armchairs, worried and tired. He hadn't slept well last night after Dumbledore's visit and today had been strenuous too. He not only had had his NEWT classes, but this rather strange conversion with Lucius as well, not to mention a meeting with his first years regarding Harry's first classes tomorrow.

Well, concerning Dumbledore, he still didn't know what to do, he still didn't know if he really was ready to lose the old man while at the same time he didn't know if he really was ready to forgive him either. His NEWT class – it had been a rather easy class. He only took the best into his NEWT classes, and thus he never had problems with them. But NEWT classes were not easy in general as during these classes the really dangerous potions were brewed.

Lucius had been an easy affair, even if strange.

And today Lucius had been here simply to converse with him like they so often had done during old times, to tell him that the governors had agreed to him being the new deputy headmaster. And to tell him he wished to divorce from Narcissa and how unsure he was about it. As it seems, the man wanted this close friendship they once had had back and somehow he couldn't help feeling happy at that thought, even if Lucius still might be a Death Eater.

But honestly, he still wasn't sure if he really wanted that post as deputy headmaster and he still didn't know why Malfoy told him all of this. Well, yes. They _had_ been close friends once, and Lucius _wanted _to gain this close friendship back – as wanted he. But he still didn't trust Lucius Malfoy and he was sure that Lucius Malfoy didn't trust him completely either. Not yet.

And then there still was the memory of his last conversation with Harry, about the boy hiding food underneath his pillow. The boy still had so many troubles to overcome and sometimes he wasn't sure if he would manage to get his son out of them, if he would be able to give the boy a normal childhood.

The boy, his son, his condition was worse than that of the other Slytherins that were abused at home and there were moments during which he tried not to think about the boy's fears, about the state the boy's few clothes had been in, about a small child sitting in a dark cupboard, being injured and hungry, about a child that had been beaten, starved, called freak and raped. About a child that filched away from every movement, from every touch, about a child that didn't even know how to play. And now he would have to try and not think about a small and much too thin child that was hiding food underneath his pillow incase he wouldn't get something to eat one day, too.

He had tucked the blankets more tightly around the sleeping child half an hour ago and against his normal ways handling children, he had carded his hands through the boy's soft hair.

He never was successful in not thinking about those things.

He just had to look at the thin and bony child, small scars running over the boy's neck and hands and he was reminded at the scars that ran over the thin body underneath the clothes. He just had to look at the thin face and the skeletal fingers to be reminded that the boy still couldn't eat normally, that he still was just nibbling as Severus used to say and that he still had serious stomach aches sometimes. And he just had to look into the pale face with the dark circles underneath the tired green eyes to be reminded that the boy still was not able to sleep more than three or four hours in a row without nightmares.

"Severus?" Minerva's calm voice got him out of his thoughts.

The woman currently was sitting at the large sofa, Filius beside her, and they were about to discuss the next days' events, what would be important and what could be a problem. After all they all shared one duty – to manage a castle full of young, reckless and sometimes idiotic witches and wizards in teaching, a place where anything could happen, and Harry, a child with serious troubles, fears and difficulties in the midst of them.

"Don't worry too much, Severus." She finally said. "Everything will be alright. Harry has you to help him and I am sure that he knows that he can depend on you. The boy does love you a lot."

"I don't know." Severus sighed, lifting his eyebrow. "He definitely depends on me, yes, but … well, I rather would not go _that_ far. And he never told me such a thing either."

"Well, Severus." Filius had the nerve to chuckle. "He does, believe me. He is just a kid and he doesn't know how to express his feelings in words, never mind if signed words, written ones or spoken words. He shows love in other ways and one just has to watch him to know that he actually _does_ love you."

Sighing and shaking his head at his colleagues' confident words, Severus leaned back in the armchair, trying to concentrate at their task at hand. Namely to get over Harry's first day of classes tomorrow.

"Well, tomorrow I have potions first." He said. "I will take Harry to the great hall for breakfast and then I will take him with me to the potions classroom."

"I have the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins in transfiguration afterwards." Minerva said. "I could gather him from your classroom and take him to my class."

"That won't be necessary." Severus shook his head. "I have a free period after that and until lunch and I will bring him over. I will gather him from your classroom after transfiguration to get him into the great hall for lunch. This day will be strenuous enough to him, so I am sure it will be safer if someone he is used to will bring him to classes and the great hall."

"And the afternoon classes?" Minerva asked. "I have a free period after lunch and I could get him to the defence classroom."

"I am sure the morning classes will be tiring enough for Harry so he won't be able to go to classes during the afternoon. We should keep this at a low level in the beginning. You will be lucky if he will not fall asleep in _your_ class, as it stands."

For a moment Minerva's face showed horror at the thought of a student falling asleep in her classroom, but then her face softened again, even got worried for a moment.

"Severus." She started. "What do I do if the boy actually falls asleep in my classroom? Surely I cannot take points from his house or give him detention for being ill and weak, for something he cannot help. But on the other hand, I surely cannot handle him different than the other students either. They would notice and they would get jealous, nothing the boy needs right now."

"Actually, I do think that you should take points in that case, Minerva." Severus said. "As long as you do not fuss over it and as long as they are not taken in a harsh way, it is better than setting him apart from the other students. My son is sensible enough to see reason."

"Will he be able to handle all the magic around him?" Filius asked concerned. "I remember you mentioned that his body is too thin and too weak to handle too much magical potions and healing spells. And he still is so very thin and fragile. Will he be able to handle being surrounded by magic?"

"I cannot answer you this question for sure, Filius." Severus admitted with a thoughtful expression on his face. "But I do _believe _that he will. He is on nutrient potions since weeks now and even if he still is too thin and too small, he actually _has _gained some weight and strength. He isn't the shadow anymore he has been a few weeks ago. So I think we just try it how far we can take it and see what will come out of it. We do not have much more time, Harry will have to attend classes one day and even if we provided him with private lessons up to now, I think it is time or he will be too far behind the others to catch up."

Both of the other heads of houses nodded.

"Anything else we should consider?" Minerva asked quietly. She painfully was reminded of the day in the infirmary, when Poppy and Severus had informed her of how to handle Harry, that she should allow Severus to handle the boy and stand aside - what not always had been easy.

"Actually, yes." Severus said, his eyebrow lifted and his face serious. "I do know that both of you always accepted my Slytherins carrying along their bottles with water, contrary to some other teachers."

Minerva huffed at that.

"I never understood Sibyll and Aurorus." She then said, knowing well which other teachers Severus meant. "A student surely can wait with eating until after a class has ended, but it is important to have enough to drink. Some of the teachers have a jug of water on their desks as well and as long as the classes are not disturbed, which never has happened with your Slytherins drinking during my classes, I am not against it."

"I would have their heads if they would." Severus growled darkly. "However, I will provide Harry with the same flask as the rest of my Slytherins, but I fear that he might not use it out of fear of either doing anything wrong or drawing attention at himself at all. That for I ask of you to remind him – discretely of course – that he actually _should _drink enough if you notice the need for doing such. I do mention it with Harry because it is necessary. I will lace his water with a relaxing draught so his muscles won't start cramping during classes as well as with a potion to keep his nerves calm somewhat. He will be nervous enough as it is."

Well, during the past weeks he had ensured that the boy drank enough, that he always had a glass of water, of juice or a cup of tea or milk in front of the boy. But the moment he would be back in classes, it would be more complicated to watch over the boy's drinking habits and he was glad that he at least had Minerva and Filius at his side for this now.

It was the same as it was with some of his other Slytherins and he always gave them at least the chance to drink during classes, giving them bottles to carry with them. And most of them used it. It was a bottle which colour they could chose so no one could see its contents as he often added potions to their liquids. Pain killers for a few days after the holidays in some cases, nutrient potions or calming draughts. That was the advantage of having a Potions Master as head of house. He was able to provide his students with what they needed and as long they needed it with the knowledge of the risks and the dangers. He was able to provide them with necessary potions without the fear of them getting addicted while they had to get those potions by themselves.

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Slowly, very slowly, with a satisfied smirk on his face and surely enjoying the moment uncle Vernon unbuckled his belt and he couldn't help but feeling every effect of the panic attack again, knowing what would come next and knowing how much it would hurt. His heart that was already racing madly increased its speed, his palms were clammy while his fingers felt numb, his throat got even tighter and he barely could breath. It was the same as always and he cast a desperate, pleading look at his uncle, knowing that it wouldn't help, knowing that his uncle wouldn't care and knowing that he only would find satisfaction in uncle Vernon's eyes. As always.

And nevertheless he just had to try, he simply couldn't help.

"I begin to understand why your Slytherins trust you so much, Severus." Filius said softly. "You really do care and you actually do know a lot of how to handle children."

"I am a teacher and a head of house for more than ten years now, Filius." Severus said. "And being the head of a house that holds more abused children than other houses does force you to …"

He froze when he heard a nearly inhuman shriek coming from Harry's room.

"Severus?" Filius couldn't help asking startled, turning his eyes at the ajar door.

"A nightmare." Severus replied shortly while he quickly got up. "And a bad one as it seems."

Harry's terrified screams were turning into soft sobs the moment he shoved the ajar door open and quickly but calmly entered the room, went to the boy's bed.

"Hush, child." He said softly while he sat beside the small form that was huddled into a small ball in a corner on the rather large bed, the large space leaving the child looking even more small and fragile than he actually were. "Open your eyes, Harry. You are at home, at Hogwarts, with me. No one can harm you here and nobody can to take you away."

He reached out to take the boy into his arms and to hold him tightly, and the moment he gripped his son's shoulders and drew him close the boy threw himself into his father's arms, over and over again begging him to save him. He didn't seem able to get close enough to him and wrapped his little arms around his neck, nearly strangling him in the attempt, wrapped even his short legs around his waist while he buried his head in the man's shoulder, hoping the horrible images of the nightmare would leave and Severus sighed deeply while he gently wrapped one hand around the boy's neck and ran his other over the boy's back.

"Hush, child." He whispered. "You are safe. You are at home, with me. No harm will befall you here. But I would appreciate it, if you would not strangle me, child. Just loosen your grip a bit." But it was to no avail, the child simply wasn't ready to let go yet and he simply tightened the grip his arms had around the boy to give him the sureness and the closeness he right now needed. He surely would survive being strangled by his son.

He did his best to comfort the trembling little boy by running his hand over the thin shoulders and he kept Harry close since it was unlikely that he would be able to peel the child that held onto him with his frightened grip from his form for several more minutes. He also didn't try talking to him yet but simply tightened his arms around his son and simply whispered soothing nonsense in his ear, carding his fingers soothingly through his son's dark hair.

When he noticed the boy's sobs ebbing away to small hiccups, the trembling lessen and the deathly tight grip of the small arms around his neck loosen a bit he again tried to – somehow – dislodge the boy from his form, with the only result that the thin arms immediately tightened around his neck again while the subs returned.

"Would you like to have some hot chocolate to scare away the rest of your nightmare, child?" He asked gently, trying another approach.

But the boy in his arms just shook his head wildly against his shoulder.

"D-don … d-don't … don't go, D-daddy!" He sobbed.

"I am right here, child." The Potions Master spoke very softly, startled. "I am not going anywhere."

"Pro-pro- … pro-mise … mise … promise?" Harry asked distressed, barely able to get the word out and Severus gritted his teeth while he forced himself to wait patiently. "D-don … don't … don't go … f- … don' go … go far?" Harry asked upset and he could feel the tiny hands that had were gripping his robes going into tight fists with frustration over his own stuttering.

"I am not going anywhere, child." He confirmed firmly. "Let me get you your night robe and socks on, and then we will go and join Minerva and Filius for a cup of hot chocolate together."

Severus put socks onto the boy's feet, stood him onto the carpet that lay in front of the bed and then helped his son into the night robe. He was just about to lead the boy into the living area when Harry lifted his arms in a clear sign of the need for being carried, needing this close contact right now, needing this sign of care right now.

So, after a moment of hesitation, he lifted his son up - his reputation was already destroyed in front of Minerva and Filius anyway - and carried him out into the living area, the boy's arms firmly around his neck, the boy's legs around his waist and the boy's head laying on his left shoulder. He called for Zilly and asked the small house elf for a cup of hot chocolate before he seated himself on the sofa with Harry's upper body occupying his lap, knowing that the boy wouldn't let go of him anytime soon and that for simply cradling his son's head and shoulders in one arm.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Just ensure that Harry sits beside Draco." Severus said, eyeing the boy in his arms and noticing that his son was about to fall asleep barely able to pay attention to their conversation anymore, his eyes dropping shut every few seconds. "He is getting along rather well with him and Draco has Theodore to back him up so neither of them will be alone. And maybe it would be wise to go to bed for sleeping, Harry, as tomorrow will be a strenuous day for you." He added, barely changing his tone of voice and it actually took the boy a few seconds to recognize that his father had said the last sentence to him and then another few seconds to recall what the Professor had said.

"I … 'm n-not … 'm not … not tired." He then said and immediately was betrayed by a yawn and another drooping of his eyelids that seemed too heavily suddenly.

"I can see that." Severus smirked, running his fingers through his son's hair.

They had covered most problems that _could_ arise and Severus knew that most probably it had been not only the boy's exhaustion but his voice also that had made the boy sleepy, and he smirked. A trait Molly Weasley, mother of seven children, surely would be jealous about if she knew.

"I do know that neither Minerva nor I have the young Dursley in class, Severus." Filius softly said, eying the meanwhile sleeping boy that lay in his colleagues arms and Severus too couldn't help looking down at the bundle he held, just to ensure the boy really was asleep. He remembered their conversation two days ago, when he had prepared Harry for the thought of going back to classes, when he finally had told him that he would meet his cousin again, and he surely would not want a replay of that right now. Not if the boy needed to sleep. "But how will Harry handle the other boy's presence?"

**Flashback**

_Harry actually had smiled – the boy had smiled! – __the moment he had informed him that he would go back to classes soon and he didn't know … he didn't know why. He knew that Harry still was afraid of going back to classes and he knew that Harry was still tired and exhausted, still nervous and still under some pain level. But the boy had smiled, one of those rare smiles._

_Well, maybe it had been because he had told him that it would be potions first he would take him to. _

_However, they had talked a while about classes, about what Harry would have to await and that he wished him to sit with Draco, had asked him if he was alright with that decision and Harry had nodded at him. But be it as it may, he now had another topic to bring up and he really didn't look forwards to this one and he sighed._

_"I do know that this might upset you now, Harry, but I have to remind you, that you will see your cousin again at classes." He said, softly, and his dark eyes searching the still too pale and thin face for signs of distress – and easily finding them. "We have already discussed your cousin being here at Hogwarts and I do know that you are afraid of seeing him again, but you do not have to worry. I have had a word with your other teachers and he will not be near you nor will you be alone with him. While you are sitting with Draco in the front and with Theodore, Gregory and Vincent behind you, he will be sitting with Blaze in the back of the classroom and all your teachers will ensure that the two of you won't leave the classroom together. Your cousin only then will leave a classroom the moment you and Draco are gone and far enough ahead."_

_Well, the startled and frightened look on the boy's face made clear that his words had not the desired effect and he sighed again. He had known they wouldn't._

_"B-but … but … th-that … that … that m-mean … means … that means … he … he will … he will sit …" The boy painfully slowly stammered and then breaking off completely he cast a desperate look at him that made clear he hadn't thought about that a moment ago._

_"Yes, Harry." Severus gently said, taking the boy's nervously jerking hands between his own to stop their restless movements. "That means that he will sit in your back and I do know that it won't be easy for you to relax with this knowledge. But first, he won't sit directly behind you. You will have the other Slytherins between you and him and believe me, they meanwhile do know how to handle him. Second, I cannot place you in the back row so you would be able to watch him, because I do need to have an eye on you and because I do want to have you near the door. And third, I have had a word with your cousin too, and believe me, he does know in how much trouble he will find himself if he should pull the simplest stunt with you."_

_His words still did not have the desired effect, as he had known they wouldn't, and he simply pulled the now nearly sobbing boy close. He knew how desperate and frightened Harry felt. It was one thing to have a __student in his back that he simply didn't like. But it was another thing to have one in his back he actually feared and for a good reason too. _

_So he actually wondered that Harry neither had been breaking down sobbing by now, nor that he had gotten into a panic attack__ either._

_"I do know how frightened you are about this information, Harry." He softly said, running his hand over the boy's shoulders in a – what he hoped – calming manner. "But believe me, you will be safe. We all will watch out for you, not only we teachers but the other Slytherins as well. You won't be alone with him for one second. And neither will you have to go back to your dormitory right now, but you will come back to our quarters here. I promise you, you will be quite fine."_

**End flashback**

The boy had curled himself into a small ball while pressing his head against Severus' chest and he had not answered so he – Severus – had continued to just gently run his hand over the boy's bony shoulder. It had taken him almost an hour to finally calm the boy down enough so they had been able to have some lunch but Harry had not eaten much nor had he slept well during that night. And not during the night after that either.

The day after had been just as difficult and it had taken Severus some more conversations with his son until he'd had the boy to finally accept his words and the boy finally calmed down enough to being able to sleep properly and to eat properly without throwing up with nerves.

"I am sure that Harry will be terrified, of course, and I have to admit that anything could happen, starting with simply being afraid and unable to concentrate up to having a full blown panic attack." He said matter-of-factly. "What is the reason I am glad that it is potions that will be Harry's first class as I will be able to have an eye on the situation then. And as transfiguration is following the potions class where Mr. Dursley won't be present, I am not really worried about the first day."

It was barely half an hour later when Minerva and Filius had left, giving him the privacy to carry his son to bed and now he tucked the blanket tightly around his son's still so small form and he sighed. Contrary to what he had said to Minerva and Filius, he actually _was_ worried over the next day.

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The screaming had started an hour later and just as they did every time, Harry's nightmares had caused Severus to grit his teeth in frustration and once more, he had battled with Harry, first to get the boy awake, and then to calm him down enough to breathe and afterwards, when the boy's hyperventilating had given way to soft, almost inaudible sounds of distress, to try and talk to the child in a soft and gentle voice about the nightmare, trying to get Harry to talk about it. But Harry hadn't and yet he knew that the boy's nightmares had been about his uncle committing more bloody beatings, about his aunt starving him in a dark and small cupboard for only Merlin knew how many days, along with the boy's sense that he could not breathe and could not escape from that particular hell.

And now the next morning came and with it the thoughts of classes followed by fear, anxiety and actually feeling ill.

He would be touched, even if just by accident, but he couldn't handle this, he couldn't handle being touched, except for Severus. He was still about to learn how to deal with such physical contacts, how to handle them so he wouldn't wince or jump or give a startled sound of his distress away.

And he would have to eat normally too, just as every other boy in this school did, but he still couldn't eat as much as they would eat. He still couldn't eat too much without being ill afterwards, without his stomach aching afterwards. And he still couldn't eat quickly. He still needed at least an hour to finish a small meal.

And then there would be Dudley again, sitting at the Slytherin table and then sitting in his back in the classroom, not to mention all the other students that would be present to witness his fear, his weakness … his … his …

Suddenly, it just seemed impossible to summon up the energy to deal with all that and Harry just in time reached the bathroom where he retched in nervousness, unable to keep his nerves under control any longer, his stomach twisting painfully while he threw up.

But it only took a few moments until Harry heard his father's voice, felt his hand on his shoulder, and even if he was relieved at that little comfort, he couldn't help flinching at the touch. It simply reminded him too much at the thoughts he'd had just a few moments earlier and he just was too nervous in general right now.

But the moment he realized that it really only was his father who was kneeling beside him, touching his shoulder and placing a cool and wet cloth on his forehead, supporting his head that suddenly seemed too heavy, he relaxed into the touch but it still took him a long moment to understand what the Professor said.

"Harry?" The Professor's voice was clearly concerned. "What happened? Is there something wrong?"

Harry still wasn't able to open his eyes and that for he just shook his head. There wasn't simply _'something'_ wrong. There was _'everything'_ wrong that could be wrong.

"I … I don-don't … don't w-want to go … to go to … to school. I … I'm … I'm not … not ready." He swallowed heavily, shivering. "I don … I don't … don't know … if I will … if I will … ever … ever be … re-ready … be ready." He added in a weak whisper.

Severus' thoughts during the last night had borded on the same thing he realized while he watched his son struggle with his words and again memories came to his mind, unbidden, but he doubted that it would be wise to tell Harry that right now.

"You will." He that for simply said, pulling the boy into an upright position and starting to clean the boy's face. "And besides, you already _are_ at school."

At the sudden movement Harry paled a little further and closed his eyes briefly, trying in vain to keep the nervousness at bay. He only re-opened them again when he felt his father's hands on his shoulders once more and he found himself looking into a pair of dark eyes.

"It is only for a few hours." Severus said firmly but quietly. "The morning classes will do for now, you won't partake in your afternoon classes today and then we will see where we will go from there on."

With a quick flick of his wand he cleaned up the mess and then took hold of the boy's upper arm, led him into the living room, sitting the boy onto the sofa and he studied the child that looked much younger than the eleven years he actually was. That boy still was so small. With his legs pulled up to his chest and his arms circling around them, pulling them close to his chest, his wrists and ankles were exposed and Severus knew that he could encircle them both with one hand easily. He still was afraid of accidentally breaking the child's joints while doing the physical exercises with him. He had started to not only work on Harry's muscles but on his joints as well two weeks ago and sometimes he actually was amazed at how agile the boy was in general. His wrists, they still caused problems, but otherwise his son seemed to be made of rubber.

The boy still was trembling slightly in pain from his throwing up and Severus sat next to him, caressing his hair slightly.

"I … I'm … I'm sorry." Harry stammered and the Potions Master saw his son's muscles locking up, the boy tensing with uncertainty and fear, hands going into fists and Severus held his breath and began counting down the potions ingredients he would need in today's class.

One – aconite … two - angelica … three – arum … four – lavender … five – leaves of mandragora … six – he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He was master of this domain. He always handled frightened children. He knew how to handle them and he knew that it had nothing to do with him.

That at least was what he told himself but he still was not able to keep the hurt at bay when his son displayed such signs of fear towards him.

"There is no reason to apologize, Harry." He said. "I surely won't punish you just because you are ill. I take it your nerves played havoc and that for you got ill. Nothing a cleaning spell and a tea with a stomach soothing potion cannot remedy. After that you will have to take the nutrient potion before we go to the great hall for breakfast. And yes, I do insist on eating breakfast in the great hall so you have the time to get used to your classmate's presence before class starts."

The boy just nodded, rather miserable and Severus sat himself onto the coffee table in front of the sofa.

"You do know, Harry, whenever you feel that you loose your reality, then just place your hands onto the wooden surface of your desk, or of the bench you are sitting at." He said, watching the child in front of him close. "Feel the reality of the wood that is there, present, and allow the furniture to assure you that it is real, that the situation is real. And whenever you feel that your fear will get too much, then take a grip on your quill. Twirl it between your fingers, form a fist around the wood or simply run your fingertips along it while closing your eyes."

They had practiced those simple things during the past weeks too and the boy nodded, knowing what he had to do to get himself back into reality, and to master his fears – at least to some extend – but his nod was still miserable. It was one thing to practice those things at home and while being in a safe haven but it was an entirely other thing doing so in an extreme situation and the boy knew it. One gaze at his pale face and he could see as much.

"Everything will be alright." The Potions Master said. "You never will be alone and you do know what to do if the strain becomes too much, as does your teachers, your classmates and last but not least I. You will be able to talk to me whenever you need me. Any more flashbacks, memories or nightmares, any other thing bothering you, and you will be able to talk to me. I will be able to help you. And you will have your notebook too."

"B-but … but … but I … I won-won't need … need it … any-anymore … I won't need it anymore!" The boy answered, nearly startled, and Severus actually had to hide a smirk when Harry repeated his own sentence without stuttering. It was a first time and he felt that it was an enormous step.

"No, you won't need it anymore." Severus said quietly but all the same his voice was more than just pleased. "Nevertheless I want you to carry your notebook and a pencil with you for a while longer. I do not wish you to get into a panic if you ever will find it hard to say something and have no way to express what it is you want to say."

Again the boy nodded, placing the teacup he meanwhile had emptied onto the table beside the professor. He indeed felt better, the nausea nearly gone and he felt nearly warm.

Severus reached into one of the pockets of his cloak and reached a vial with the well known nutrient potion towards his son who took it and downed it obediently. When he reached the empty vial back however, he couldn't help casting a worried glance at his father.

"Why … why do … why do I … still … have … have to … to take … to take them?" He asked, closing his eyes in pure frustration over his stuttering and in order to concentrate. "Why do I still have to take them? I do eat now."

"You still do have to take those because you have been deprived of all the vitamins your body needs for far too long, Harry." Severus answered seriously. "You even nearly lost your teeth and I guess only your magic kept you actually alive. What is the reason I want you to take an apple or two with you. I do know that it is not likely that you would be hungry since your stomach still is not used to too much food, but I suggest that you nevertheless continue eating several small meals throughout the day, between classes on schooldays and especially on weekends when you are not bound to your schedule."

The boy nodded, looking miserable again and Severus knew exactly why. The boy still feared eating in the great hall, especially knowing that his cousin would be present and would be able to report him to his uncle. It was a fear that simply was too deeply ingrained into the boy's awareness and he knew that it was necessary that he made his point. So he tried to keep his voice gentle. Stern and in his teaching mode, but yet less intimidating than his classroom persona.

"You are allowed to eat what is served in the great hall, and I do wish you to eat at least as much as you did eat here during the past weeks." He said sternly, knowing that it still was not enough what his son ate, but knowing that it was better than nothing and knowing that the boy should eat at least _that_ much. "I will be present at all three meals in the great hall, Mr. Snape, and I can assure you now that I will be watching you at every one of them. If I find that you are not eating, I will call you into my office and we will discuss the matter further. Something you surely would not want to have, now, do you, Mr. Snape?"

The startled and wide, green eyes the boy watched him with told him just as much as the quick headshake the boy gave him and he nodded his approval.

"Good." He said. "See that you do not forget it."

"But … but what … what if … what if I … if I won't … if I won't manage?" The boy asked and Severus immediately knew what the boy meant. What if he would not manage eating in the great hall and had a panic attack? What if he would not manage being in classes and had a panic attack? What if he wouldn't be able to keep his panic under control? What if he would lose reality and wouldn't be able to get himself back? What if … there simply were too many what ifs.

"Then we will face it together." He said reassuringly. "I will be right beside you if you need help. And even during transfiguration I will be near. And just to inform you, Harry, I will _not_ get angry over you feeling frightened. Anybody would be frightened in your circumstance."

Harry nodded and swallowed heavily.

Severus, standing in front of his son, placed his hands on the boy's shoulders and gave them a slight squeeze, trying to reassure the boy that everything would be alright, that he wouldn't be alone and trying to give as much comfort as possible.

Harry was strangely comforted by the gesture, once more reminded at the face that this it was what it felt like to have a parent – or anyone for that matter who would support him. It wasn't the first time he felt like this, but as strange as it was, it always happened when he was in need of it.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus released the boy's shoulder with a last squeeze and then he cast a tempus.

"I guess it is time you get ready, Harry." He said. "It is quite late, son."

For a moment the boy's face lit up at the term 'son' he used, but then his face crumbled the moment he understood what it was his father had said. They were late and it was because of him sleeping late and then getting ill.

But Severus quickly shook his head, reading his son's mind as it seemed. "I did not mean it as criticism, child. You were tired and you needed the rest. I only woke up a short while ago myself. And being ill isn't anything you can help either, so stop worrying and get ready for classes."

And now he was standing in his room, in front of the mirror beside the shelves with his toys and books, after having had a shower and after dressing in the new school robes his father had given him, nervously adjusting and re-adjusting his tie, nervously chewing on his bottom lip and far too preoccupied with what might be about to occur.

It would be his first day back in classes, after so many weeks.

And he still did not feel ready, knowing that anything could happen.

And again the fear threatened to consume him, caused him to feel queasy.

Severus stood for a few moments in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest and leaning against the doorframe with his shoulder, watching the boy adjusting his tie nervously, watching the boy's pale face and the still too thin form, watching the still slow and careful movements with which the boy moved and he had to admit that he indeed was not sure if the child was ready while at the same time he knew that it was high time that the boy got back to classes.

He knew that probably his son never would catch up enough weight, that probably the boy never would be well completely, that he probably never would be ready to attend a boarding school. While at the same time he knew that it simply was necessary and so he could get him back to classes right now as well as in a week, in a month or in a year. It wouldn't make a difference.

Harry was just about to lose his nerves completely again when suddenly he felt two firm hands settle on each shoulder from behind, then slowly those hands moved forward, in front of him to still his own hands at his disheveled tie and he leaned back against the firm body of his father that stood behind him, whose hands untied the tie and then tied it again with quick and sure movements.

After a moment or two the hands returned to his shoulders and pulled him close for a moment. "Working yourself into a state will not be going to help matters, child." His father said quietly. "Everything will go well, Harry, do trust me."

Harry finally turned, his father's hands still on his shoulders, and looked up into the harsh face he was used to by now, the harsh face that held a pair of black and warm yes, watching him with concern and he couldn't help but nod.

"I assume that you have remembered the details of our earlier discussion?" Came the stern voice while his father led him through the living area in the Professor's private quarters and then opened the door, his eyes never leaving his face and he nodded once more, knowing that he would leave these safe quarters behind him to enter the castle's corridors, the great hall and the classrooms for the first time since weeks.

He had done so before and he had managed, he knew, but back then he had been able to because his surviving instincts had been at their highest. But now … now they weren't. Now he knew a different side of life. Now he had learned what it meant to live, to have someone who cared and to allow himself to lower his protections, his defenses, his guard and his covers.

He had become weak in the Professor's presence, as it seemed.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_The great hall_

_The potions classroom_

_Transfiguration_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would be grateful if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	44. back to classes part one

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added Note:**

I'm still slower with my updates than what you originally are used to from me, but as I feel better, I guess that soon will change, at least I do hope so ... I however say thank you for your patience and for not skinning me alive ... I wouldn't make such good potions ingredients, believe me ... *g* ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_He had done so before and he had managed, he knew, but back then he had been able to because his surviving instincts had been at their highest. But now … now they weren't. Now he knew a different side of life. Now he had learned what it meant to live, to have someone who cared and to allow himself to lower his protections, his defenses, his guard and his covers._

_He had become weak in the Professor's presence, as it seemed._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter forty-four**

**Back to classes – part one**

So – here they were, walking along the corridor that led towards the entrance hall, which they would have to cross to enter the great hall for breakfast. And Severus had to admit that he was rather nervous.

Yes, he knew that they were at Hogwarts, a school, and there was nothing that really could harm Harry. But at the same time he knew how scared the boy was and he knew how easy it would be to get him into a full blown panic attack. And if that happened on the boy's very first day of classes – well, he rather could imagine how Harry would react to attending classes in future then. He would have to argue with the child then, something he wouldn't wish to do.

Not to mention how fragile the boy still was. Shorter than every other first year and still so frightening thin and bony, still not healed yet and he still had not regained his full strength. Damn, that boy was by far the smallest of his Slytherins he'd ever had. So, yes - of course he was nervous and hoped that everything would go well today. Though he didn't show his nervousness.

Not only was he Severus Snape and the dark and cold dungeons bat simply did not get nervous, but also did the boy beside him need him calm and reasonable. The last thing Harry right now needed was someone who was unsure by himself. The boy needed someone who showed where to go and what to do. A strong presence that would lead him.

And nevertheless he couldn't help tensing when he felt small fingers curling around his own, a small palm settling softly against the skin of his own hand and he inhaled sharply for a moment, turned his head to the side and downwards to look at his son. The small boy gave him a hesitant and questioning look for a moment, a look that clearly showed his fears, as if asking if it was ok to hold his hand and the Potions Master eyed his son carefully for another moment, but then his facial expression softened slightly and a small smile quirked the corners of his lips upwards. He barely inclined his head towards the boy and then he looked ahead again, tightening his own hold on his son's hand while he continued walking towards the double winged entrance doors of the great hall. If this was what the boy right now needed, then he would not deny it to him.

When they reached the entrance hall and crossed the large space however, he released Harry's hand and placed his own hand onto his son's shoulder instead, squeezing slightly for a moment and steering the boy towards the large and heavy oak doors, cursing at the fact that they were closed. A rare occasion. Those doors mostly were open all the times, and he actually wondered why in Merlin's name they had to be closed right now. Their entering would be just the more noticeable. Just what he would have wished to avoid.

Harry however didn't think at _that_. He simply was busy worrying his lower lip when the Professor released his hand, but immediately he felt oddly comforted by the weight of the same hand on his shoulders, a hand that rested there with strangely reassuring strength that seemed to inform him that he wasn't alone, that his father was there. He looked up at the Professor with unsure eyes and he was sure that the man noticed his nervousness and he took a deep breath. He steeled himself for what would come next and then he nodded at him reassuringly, as if to say 'I'm fine', earning a proud smile from the Potions Master.

Severus did keep his hand on his son's shoulders though while he shoved the heavy wooden doors open with an angry force, startling some of the students within the large space and then steered the boy inside the great hall and he felt Harry leaning closer to him, he actually could feel the boy feeling frightened but comforted by his closeness at the same time. Well, it was what Severus had been hoping for. That his presence would keep the boy from going into panic mode the moment he had opened the double winged door to the great hall. And again he cursed at the thought of those doors being closed today of all days.

Harry leaned further into the touch, trying to draw as much safety from his father's hand on his shoulder as possible, but nevertheless – walking into the great hall was like some kind of shock and horror for Harry. It was anything than the past weeks in the Professor's rooms had been. The Professor's quarters had been peaceful. They had been silent and there had been no one aside from him, Professor Snape, and sometimes Professor McGonagall or Professor Flitwick. And Zilly, of course. They had been a safe haven, those rooms.

And now, entering the great hall this morning – well, it was noisy, it was deafening and it was crowded, and Harry actually reared back when they walked into the hall, startled and afraid, and he would have reacted in a more evident way if not for the steadying hand that still lay on his shoulders, that comforted him and that guided him, that gave him some reassurance and strength.

"Hush, child." Severus murmured in a low voice, nodding slightly at the boy and for a moment he squeezed the small shoulder beneath his hand and the boy took a deep breath and forced himself to release it slowly in order to calm himself. Severus actually could feel the tension within the muscles underneath his hand relaxing slightly before tensing up again.

Just as he had known the noise immediately stopped upon the double winged doors swinging open and silence erupted within the great hall, a silence so deep, it threatened to swallow Harry for a moment and he couldn't help thinking at the first evening in this very hall, just after the sorting and the hat calling out 'Slytherin'. Again, just as it had been back then, the silence was nearly unbearable and again he stood there, listening to his own wild pounding heart – until the Professor gave him another slight squeeze and then led him towards the Slytherin table.

And just then Harry recognized the difference between this day weeks ago and today. This time he wasn't alone. This time he had his father at his side who gave him strength, who gave him reassurance and who gave him safety.

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Severus Snape scowled at the students that fell silent the moment he entered the great hall with his son beside him, his hand still resting on the boy's shoulders, and many of the faces that had turned towards them when the double winged oak doors had swung open went from pale to blushed and then back to pale again, went from curiosity to startled and then to shocked, and with another scowl he led his son towards the wall to their left, towards the Slytherin table.

His movement broke the silence immediately and loud noise filled the great hall and the tables, causing Harry to flinch and for another moment he increased the pressure his hand had on the boy's shoulder while he listened with a blank face to the murmurs around them. Questions over their return, over Harry's return, and surprised words about him leading the boy inside the great hall. But not just about Harry's return to meals and – apparently – classes, but about their dispised Potions Master's reaction to the boy too and he sneered.

How stupid were they, for Merlin's sake? Didn't they read this blasted paper that had announced that he had adopted Harry James Potter, now Harry Severus Snape? Didn't they read the blasted paper that had stated that the boy lived with him and that he cared for the boy?

But on the other hand, well, he had to give them some credit. No one had ever seen him touching anybody, not to mention in such a protective and affected way he did right now with Harry, even if it was only his hand on the boy's shoulder. Right now he had to admit, he actually behaved like a human being, like any other human being on this earth would do.

Some students surely must be scared to death while others had to be in shock. Poppy would have her field day, if they all would visit the hospital wing after breakfast.

His Slytherins however were another thing. They smiled at him and Harry and they even looked proud at the fact that he led the boy with his hand on his shoulder along the table side until he reached the far end where the other first year students sat and most of the older years greeted them respectfully while the younger years waved at them happily.

"Draco." Severus greeted his godson and the blond boy lifted his head, smiling at him. "I want Harry sitting beside you here in the great hall and during classes until further notice. Theodore, I expect you to sit opposite Harry in the great hall and behind him during classes, just as we already discussed. The rest of you, you all know how to behave in this very situation."

All of them nodded their heads and some "yes, sir" and "of course, sir" were heard. He looked over at the sixth and seventh years and saw some of them nodding too, understanding his silent question to have an eye on them and especially Harry.

He gave a sharp glare to Dudley Dursley, just to make his point and to remind him of their last conversation and he could see that the boy looked rather miserable, but nodded at him. He had understood.

"You do remember our last conversations, Harry?" He asked sternly and the boy nodded at him. "Good. I do wish you to eat, do not forget that."

He gave a last look at his son and once more squeezed the small shoulder beneath his hand before gestured him to sit down and then turned towards the head table while the thin boy took his usual place at the end of the table beside Draco and opposite of Theodore.

"Good morning, Severus." Minerva greeted him with a smile on her otherwise stern face. "I'm glad to see you back. The students surely will behave much more now, now that your presence scare them into paling, if I see correctly. You have startled quite a few."

"Somehow I have to get my reputation back, Minerva." Severus answered with a smirk. "And if startling them senseless is the key, then be it."

He watched his snakes from the head table while he took a toast, scrambled eggs and sausages, noticing that his son reached a tentative hand out to take a piece of toast. The uncertain movement however stopped immediately the moment Draco reached over to the plate with the sausages. The smaller boy actually drew his arm back and clutched his trembling hand to his chest with a whispered "s-sor-sorry".

"Never mind." He heard Draco answering with a smile on his face and simply taking the plate with the toasts and holding it in front of Harry so the other boy could take one without extending his hand over the table. A gesture Severus was very satisfied with.

"You know, Harry, I'm glad you're back." Draco said. "I'm sure you'll be fine."

Severus watched Harry more closely, saw the boy nodding, noticed his tense shoulders, the hand that trembled while finally reaching for a toast, the – for his liking – too pale and drawn face and he noticed the boy flinching whenever Draco or Theodore moved too quickly or addressed him. Harry truly looked as if he were ready to run, and Severus sighed. He had known that it wouldn't be easy in the beginning.

Harry just nodded at Draco, not sure what to say, not sure if he would be able to say anything at all, and just then he understood why his father had insisted he took the notebook and the pencil with him all the times. So he simply turned his attention to his plate, trying to eat at least some bites. It was anything else than easy, he noticed, with the thought at being in such close proximity to such an amount of children, to sit at the same table as did Dudley, and at the thought of being in classes just in a few minutes.

His cousin however, Harry noticed, did not openly look at him. He had his head down, looking at his plate – that held food similar to theirs but not quite the same – and only cast some hidden glances towards him from time to time. He wasn't able to recognize what it was that was in his cousin's gazes anyway, but at the same time he didn't want to find out either.

He still didn't understand why the Professor had taken Dudley to Hogwarts, but seeing that the other boy was the older wizard's ward now too, he surely had reason to, hadn't he? If he only would not have to sit at the same table, and if only he would not had to have attend classes with the other boy.

Professor Snape had told him that Dudley wouldn't harm him anymore, but somehow he couldn't believe him. He tried, honestly. Because his father had never lied to him. But he just couldn't. And he just couldn't make himself relaxing. He couldn't help but fearing the other boy still.

Draco and Theodore tried to get him into their conversation and Harry politely nodded at them from time to time while trying at the same time to eat something under his father's attentive gaze and he knew that the Professor watched him closely. He wasn't hungry and the other children around him too, watching him, pointing at him, destroyed what little appetite he would have had anyway. So he was barely eating – again – and honestly, even if he flinched, he wasn't surprised when he heard the Professor's voice whispering in his head, asking "nibbling, are we?", while at the same time crumbled eggs were floating towards his plate to accompany the toast he had there.

"I expect you to eat that, Harry." The Professor's voice echoed within his mind and he watched over at the head table, saw his father sitting there, eating, conversing with Professor McGonagall, while the man from time to time cast serious glances over at him.

It was nearly half an hour later, and of course Harry had not managed to eat nearly as much as the other children around him, let alone to finish his plate while the other children already had finished their breakfast, when Professor Dumbledore stood and Professor McGonagall put her knife to her goblet, causing a loud clinking sound and gaining the attention of the students.

It was however the headmaster that finally stood and then spoke.

"I have to announce, that I am retiring from this day on from my post as headmaster of Hogwarts due to my old age and a few of rather drastic mistakes I have made." Dumbledore said in a rather tired voice and Severus looked over at him, his eyebrow raised. He had not thought that the headmaster actually would admit such in front of the student body.

"I can understand that you all feel upset about those changes." The headmaster said, lifting his hands at the noise that erupted in the great hall, students shouting in protest, students asking questions and students shaking their heads in shock – again. Poppy really would have a busy day today, Severus thought darkly.

"But believe me, it is for the best. I have overlooked and ignored severe cases of child abuse throughout my years as headmaster, where I should have stepped in. And I have misjudged situations over the last years, that I cannot blame on my old age only, but on my ignorance and lack of judgement too. So I simply cannot keep the post of a headmaster with a clean conscience anymore and I am sure all of you will understand and respect my decisions to retreat from my post. Professor McGonagall will be the new headmistress with the approval of the board of governors, while Professor Snape will take over her post as deputy headmaster. He will remain head of Slytherin though as well as the resident Potions Master. The new head of Gryffindor and Transfiguration Professor however, will be Professor Remus Lupin. I do hope that all of you will greet him this evening during dinner. Good luck and a good time to all of you."

Severus watched the headmaster sitting back into his chair tiredly, running his hand weakly over his old, wizened face, and for a moment he actually pitied the older wizard. It must have been hard for Albus to admit this in front of the students. And it must have been hard for Albus to actually retreat from his post as headmaster in the first place. He had been headmaster with all his heart, after all. He had loved those children and he had cared for them deeply, for all of them. Even for him, Severus suddenly realized, Albus had cared even for him.

And with a heavy sigh he knew what to do. But first things first. Right now he had to concentrate onto his son and nothing else.

He watched the boy whose hands twitched near his silverware as an answer to the ruckus in the great hall that had broken loose and he immediately noticed that the boy was starting to look panicked again. He took in the signs and got up from his chair, went towards the table the boy sat at, and placed his hand onto his shoulder to still him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

On the Gryffindor table Ronald Weasley looked at Hermione in near shock. The past weeks Snape had been an evil bastard, just like his brothers had told him. Well, not Fred and George. Those two had a strange view of Snape. But Percy had told him enough evil stories about Snape. Charley on the other hand had actually been close to Snape in later years, had even brewed potions with the man freely.

He huffed. As if ever someone would be near the git by free will.

And now Snape acted towards Potter as if he were his father, as if Potter were something like a beloved son.

Well, actually – Potter was, according to the Daily Prophet. Snape had adopted Potter. Just another reason to be careful around the other boy. Potter would be running to his father with everything, he was sure of that.

However, Snape always preferred his Slytherins, and now he had a son to prefer too.

Finally catching Dumbledore's words he groaned.

Snape now was not only their Potions Professor and head of Slytherin, but he now was the deputy headmaster too. That really was bad news indeed.

Snape was deputy headmaster.

Snape would have just the more opportunities to torture them now.

"What's wrong, Ron?" Hermione asked, nudging her elbow into his ribs and again he groaned, this time with pain.

"Snape's deputy headmaster." He growled. "It only could be worse if he were the headmaster himself."

"I don't know, Ron." Hermione said, gazing over at the head table where Snape sat, his eyes on the students in general and on Harry Potter in particular and she frowned.

Snape seemed as forbidding as always, a dark scowl on his harsh face, his black eyes piercing the students with a hard glare, and one immediately knew that one better did not cross this man's path lightly.

The moment however Snape stood up to walk over to Harry Potter and placed a hand on the shoulder of the boy that seemed scared, she somehow couldn't help thinking that the man cared deeply.

"I don't know, Ron." She repeated. "I am sure that he at least cares, even if he never would admit it. He is a great wizard and he will be able to keep the school safe."

Ron huffed at her.

"He's a Death Eater." He said. "Even the Daily Prophet has stated so."

"The Daily Prophet also has stated that Professor Snape had been a spy for the light for years and that he had risked his own life during his work as a spy on countless occasions, that he had saved a lot of lives while being a spy. And that he now was a stern teacher to keep all of us safe. You know, Ronald Weasley, it is correct that Potions is a dangerous subject and there had been a lot of deaths throughout the years."

"Honestly, Hermione." Ron gasped, shaking his head. "It's Snape we're talking about. It isn't as if he had helped us with anything."

"Actually, he had." Fred said, coming over to the first years' part of the table.

"He had helped Patil a few days ago." George added.

"When she'd suffered from homesickness or something like that."

"And actually, he'd helped us …"

"With our potions work a lot …"

"Throughout the years."

"You two are just crazy." Ron shouted in frustration. Why couldn't those two see how evil Snape was? And now Potter had become evil too. Their saviour, the boy who lived.

"Maybe, Ronikins." Fred smiled.

"But at least we're not idiots as you're one." George added.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had told his Slytherins to silently leave the great hall and to go to their classes, the first years down to the dungeons for potions and now he went back towards the head table to gather the post the owls had delivered earlier.

"You do look worried, Severus." Minerva asked the moment he reached the table.

"You too would look worried, Minerva, would your son attend classes for the first time, if said son would be as fragile and as frightened as mine right now is."

"I know, Severus." Minerva answered with a smile on her stern face. "And nevertheless I cannot help noticing that you look – proud and happy, my dear Severus."

"Minerva, please!" He groaned annoyed when Filius and other teachers watched him after the blasted woman's comment. "My reputation …"

"Is already destroyed anyway, Severus." Filius nearly chuckled.

"Then it is a good thing, Filius, that there are a few points I can take from your dear Ravenclaws today, to gain my reputation back." Severus growled darkly, but Filius only smiled at him.

That blasted charms teacher actually _smiled _at him, where he in the past would have squealed unhappily at such a threat.

With a huff he turned to leave the great hall, but he immediately froze in his movement when he noticed the crowd in front of the double winged doors that led to the entrance hall.

His sharp eyes at once took in Harry, in the midst of that crowd, and who was starting to get panicky while being surrounded by too many people. He noticed the way the boy moved ever closer to the wall to his right after a few Gryffindors brushed against him on their way out of the great hall, the boy desperately trying to get to safety somehow, shrinking back as much as he could to take up as little space as possible.

He gritted his teeth in pure frustration and quickly went over to the crowd, his robes billowing behind him dangerously and his face a mask of anger. He was back to his normal self, he noticed.

As did some of the students that surrounded the crowd and quickly darted out of his way, scared and frightened. The students in the crowd itself however had not noticed him up to now.

"Make way!" He snapped impatiently, annoyed at the group of students huddled needlessly around the doors and that for blocking the way out of the great hall.

He realized Harry was huddled at the wall, Draco, Theodore and Blaze trying to block him from the worst of the crowd and with a dark growl Severus folded his arms over his chest.

"What an appropriate way to show your maturity, ladies and gentlemen." He drawled in his usual low voice, but suddenly every one of the students stopped in their movements and turned towards him. "One should think that Hogwarts is an academic institute. The way you behave however, makes me wonder if I should call it a nursery school instead. Maybe in your next potions class we should start on learning how to write? Or maybe we could sing a few nice songs and afterwards I will conjure a few mats so all of you can take a nap?"

Gulping the students quickly shook their heads and headed out of the great hall one by one and after another dark glare he sent their ways he turned towards the smaller crowd that were Harry, Draco, Theodore and Blaze.

"Wait in front of the potions classroom, you three." He said, gazing at the latter boy's while approaching his son who still looked rather shaken and frightened. "I will follow with Harry shortly."

All three Slytherins nodded their heads wordlessly, knowing there was no necessity to say anything right now. The Potions Master and their head of house would ask them later about what exactly had happened.

Severus knew that Harry had been distracted from thinking about the day's events while he had been in their quarters still, but at breakfast the boy's nerves had returned in full force and he only had been able to nibble at a piece of toast. And then this entire ruckus the crowd had caused, it had thrown back the boy to the frightened creature that right now stood there in front of him, trembling with fear and his face as white as chalk.

"I am more than disappointed in you, ladies and gentlemen, for your lack of behaviour when leaving a room. An act that should be considered as something that even small children should manage without making a ruckus." He heard Minerva taking over where he had left with the rest of the students. "Ten points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff."

"Are you alright, Harry?" Severus asked, his sharp black eyes fixing the boy with worry in them. 'What a stupid question.' He couldn't help thinking the moment it was out. Of course the boy wasn't. One look at him was enough to know as much.

"I … I don-don' … don't feel …" Was all the boy got out before turning on his heels and running down the corridor that led to the west wing of the castle and for a moment Severus was too startled to actually move. But then he silently cursed and hurried after the boy that already was out of sight.

What in Merlin's name …

The boy didn't know how to maneuver himself through the corridors and the halls of this large castle without getting lost and honestly, he could fall off the moving staircases or he could get trapped in one of the trick staircases. He could be lured into the third floor corridor where the blasted three headed dog guarded the trapdoor that led to the chamber of that damn stone. Too much things could happen to a boy that was not well at all and for a moment panic flared up within his chest, making him unable to breathe, unable to think clearly and he actually wondered where in Merlin's name this uncomfortable feeling came from and what it meant.

He however found his son moments later, throwing up in the fist floor boy's toilets and the relief that flared through the Potions Master was nearly chocking him again. Never before, since the day Lily had been killed, had he felt such fear for another person, as irrational this fear might have been however.

Harry had not noticed his father until he heard low muttering about 'foolish little boys' and felt a cool hand brush his hair from his face, coming to rest on his forehead and supporting his head just like the Professor had done this morning and obediently he took the vial his father reached him, or at least he tried to, but his hands shook too much to actually take a hold on the small glass vial.

Severus shook his head when he noticed the boy's shaking hands trying to safely take the vial from his fingers and with another relieved sigh he pulled the child closer until the boy rested with his side against his chest and he simply placed the vial at his son's lips and dipped the phial slightly, causing Harry to swallow the liquid.

"You need to eat more." He stated softly. "You still do not eat enough."

"I know." The boy in his arms signed. "And I try it, but I can't. I just have to look at a plate with food and my stomach churns."

The Professor placed his hand onto the boy's cheek, his warm palm against his cold skin feeling relaxing and the thumb that stroke his brow causing him to close his eyes for a moment. The knots in his stomach loosened slightly at the familiar comforting gesture.

"Now, what is so upsetting to you, child?" Severus asked.

"I'm afraid of classes." Harry signed weakly.

"It is no wonder you are making yourself sick." He said softly, his voice gentle, while he ran his hand through the boy's hair, noticing a bit of color returning to the child's face. He didn't even care that he was kneeling at the hard stony floor in the boy's toilet. "But the sooner you get used to other people and the sooner you begin to talk in front of other people, the less anxiety you will experience. Now, are you ready to go down to the dungeons and into the potions classroom?"

His son nodded and another wave of pride washed over the Potions Master. He pulled the small child closer for a moment and then pulled him to his feet.

"Then let's go, child." He said while marching the boy out of the toilet and along the corridor, back to the entrance hall where they could go left and into the corridor that led to the dungeons. As he led the smallest of his Slytherins past a group of students that crossed him near the entrance hall he felt Harry push even closer to him, the small body still trembling slightly and he cast another glance at the child beside him.

"Are you fine with entering the potions classroom now, Harry?" He asked upon reaching their destiny and Harry looked over at the other three boys that waited in front of the door that led into the classroom. He already knew them from the welcome feast and from his first day of classes, and he already knew Draco who had visited him more than once in his father's quarters. And the fact that he actually could hear the unspoken question, if he rather would go back to their rooms, made him feeling strangely safe.

He had a choice here. Professor Snape would not force him. He actually had a choice.

"Y-yes … yes, sir … I … I don-don't … I don't want … want to … I don't want to leave." The boy licked lips that seemed to be too dry all of a sudden and he looked over at the other boy's again. He would not have to enter alone at least. He would be able to enter with some of his classmates.

"I feel safe with you." He signed, not looking at his father but at the floor.

Nevertheless Severus wanted to smile at the way the boy was finally starting to let his guard down with him, but he continued his strict look and inclined his head at them. Harry had not only answered his voiced question, but his unspoken question as well, and he even had added a comment by his own in front of others, even if only signed, but he had done so.

"Alright, then." He said. "Off you four go."

The Professor once more reached for his shoulder to give it a slight squeeze and again the knots in his stomach loosened slightly at the familiar comforting gesture, before he followed Draco, Theodore and Blaze into the classroom, the door swinging shut behind him, and he sat down at the desk in the front of the room, beside Draco, secretly wishing he could sit in the back of the room where he would have been able to keep an eye on the other students in the room.

But he knew that he was safe with Draco beside him. And he guessed that he would be alright with some of his classmates behind him. And he knew that he would be safe with his father being there too in a few moments. And so Harry found himself staring at the board 15 minutes later while Professor Snape described the potion they were about to make. A stomach calming draught. Honestly - and people thought the Professor didn't have a sense of humor.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The first year Slytherins and Gryffindors had potions first thing that morning and Severus paused outside the classroom door for a moment, his eyes closed to calm his own nerves and then he took a deep breath, schooling his face into his usual indifferent mask before he swept into the room, just as always. Never mind his son being in this class, he surely would not refrain from his usual entrance. Harry would have to get used to it and he only hoped that the boy was already sitting at his desk so he wouldn't be startled too much. He kept his footfalls and the dramatic motions of his robes as silently as always while he swiftly made his way to the front of the classroom.

The students, he noticed, jumped the moment the door was slammed shut by him and they again jumped when he spun to face them, robes swirling behind him and instantly the room was silent. He surveyed the class with his usual sharp eyes, causing several of the Gryffindors to gulp nervously before his gaze slid over to Harry and lingered for a fraction longer on the boy's face.

Harry looked startled and frightened, his green eyes much too large for his liking, the hands that rested on the table in front of him trembling slightly and the Potions Master actually had to grit his teeth to keep his face from softening for a moment at the sight of the boy.

He really seemed to go soft, if his son caused such a reaction from him in front of a class.

To make it up he glowered at the Dursley boy and some Gryffindors again while he stood behind his desk, his own hands placed firmly on the wooden surface to hide their own slight trembling. Why, for Merlin's sake, was he so nervous about having Harry in this class?

'_Maybe because you do not want to startle or scare your son that is already frightened enough.'_ The small voice in his head said.

'_Easier said than done.'_ He silently answered the voice. _'I do wish to keep my reputation, after all – and the boy safe.'_

He scowled darkly for a moment while turning and with a flick of his wand the list of ingredients appeared on the board together with the receipt for the potion to brew.

"Today's potion will be a stomach calming potion." He calmly said, turning back to his class again. "I expect no mistakes as the steps are easy to follow. Pay attention however to the addition of the essence of gilmore weed as it will react to the jatropha oil if added too soon. The ingredients are on the board as is the receipt. Begin."

The moment the door to the classroom had slammed open Harry had felt as if his heart stopped a few beats, just to come back to life and threaten him with jumping out of his chest while at the same time he couldn't help flinching when the Professor rushed past his desk to the front of the classroom where he turned sharply, startling him just once again.

The moment his father's gaze had flickered over them, had come to rest on Harry, he had thought that those black eyes were filled with concern and something like warmth, even though the man's face had been impassive, and he had felt safe.

The moment they finally began brewing however, his nervousness reached peak levels and he barely was able to breath, his hands were shaking and he felt rather miserable while he didn't have the slightest clue how to cut the ingredients, what the precise order of putting them into the cauldron was and how to add them into the potion at all.

His fingers that held the knife were shaking that badly, he thought he wouldn't be able to get one single clean cut done and he tightened his grip around the handle, closed his eyes in order to calm himself down, just as the Professor had told him to do.

He took a deep breath, held it for a moment and then released it before reopening his eyes.

Well, at least he now was able to focus onto the receipt and the list of ingredients on the board, even if he had to squint his eyes.

'_You can do this.'_ He silently told himself. _'You have brewed potions before and this one isn't a difficult one. You can do this!'_

So he filled the needed measure of honey into the cauldron and lit the fire underneath, just as the Professor had shown him on countless times, like he had done himself a few times during the past weeks, and he sighed a sigh of relief when he noticed that he had himself back under control. He had lit a fire before without anything happening, without getting hurt, it wasn't the first time!

Well, then the first ingredient. It was a pinch of crushed anise as soon as the honey was warm and then he had to stir before adding the finely sliced fennel …

Oh oh …

With a startled gaze at the Professor he realized that he maybe should have sliced the fennel before lighting the fire and for a moment panic threatened to overwhelm him. He wouldn't have the time to slice the fennel before the honey would …

His breathing became rather frantic once more and he couldn't help but curling his hands into fists and closing his eyes for a moment. He had messed up. He was the son of the resident Potions Master, as the headmaster had said earlier. He was the son of the now deputy headmaster. And he wasn't even able to brew a simple potion. Not to mention that he had messed this up in front of the entire class to witness. He had shamed his father in front of the entire class. And surely his father would get very angry at him.

He surely would punish him severely.

Surely he wouldn't want him anymore as his son.

And then he would throw him out of his quarters.

He would …

Forcing himself to take calm breathes and ignoring Draco quietly hissing his name, he pushed those thoughts aside for now and to focus onto the problem he had at hand. He could worry about those things later. He simply had to deal with the punishment and then he simply would pack his things. It wasn't much after all. And hopefully he wouldn't be removed from school. But right now, he had to react, he had to do something.

Bending down he quickly turned off the fire and went back to the fennel in front of him, cutting it into fine slices while trying to keep his hands as steady as possible. He looked over at the board and for a moment he caught the Professor's eyes watching him, causing him to flinch and to swallow nervously. The Professor had seen. And he didn't look happy about it.

Caraway seeds. They needed to be crushed as well as the anise had been and quickly he crushed them too until he had fine powder. He assured that there really were no other ingredients that needed to be prepared beforehand and then he relit the fire underneath his cauldron to again heat up the honey and the crushed anise in it.

He had managed to safe the potion, at least he hoped so, if the anise had not reacted too long while he had prepared the fennel and the caraway seeds. He only knew that the color of the finished concoction had to be a pale green. He knew the color of this potion by heart now. He had to take it often enough by himself.

Adding the slices of fennel he again stirred, waiting for what would happen. But nothing _did_ happen, neither the color nor the smell changed and for a moment he was unsure of what to do. The Professor always had told him to wait until the color or the smell changed, but it didn't now. Maybe the potion was destroyed after all? Maybe he should not have turned the fire off? Maybe he ...

Frowning with worry he noticed that the consistence however changed and he simply took this as a sign, hoping that it was the right thing to do, and he added the crushed caraway seeds.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus Snape knew that there was nothing to observe right now. Nothing dangerous could happen before the students came to adding three drops of the essence of gilmore weed after adding oil from the jatropha roots, and so he handed out the results from their last potions while he watched his son at the same time.

The boy was more than nervous, he could tell, the boy was frightened nearly out of his wits and he wondered for a moment if Harry even was able to concentrate onto the board and the receipt.

But then Harry closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down, successfully, before finally starting on his potion. Draco was already finishing his second step the moment Harry started and most of the other students had already started with their second step. There were only Longbottom and Weasley who had not finished their first steps now.

Gazing back at his son he noticed that the boy was close to a panic attack again, whatever reason for, and he was close to getting over to the boy when he noticed Draco trying to get the other boy out of it.

Well, he would have a close eye on the boy now, but he would give Harry the chance to regain control by himself – or with the help of Draco. But honestly, the temptation to rush over to his son was nearly overwhelming. Why in Merlin's name was he so damn overprotective? It wasn't a first time that he had such a situation in his class and he should be used to giving his students a chance to regain control by themselves before intervening.

But a few seconds later he nearly breathed a sigh of relief when the boy opened his eyes and turned his fire off again, taking the knife to cut the fennel.

Ah, that it had been, he thought. Harry had forgotten to prepare the ingredients that needed preparation beforehand. A mistake that others as well had made, what explained the smell of burnt honey coming from at least three cauldrons, and he was pleased to see that his son had been able to use his brain to prevent _that_ happening.

He just wondered what exactly had caused the boy to nearly go into panic mode.

Stupid question, honestly. Most likly the boy feared he would be punished because of his mistake, not seeing that - first - it was a class where they were about to learn, and - second - he had seen his mistake by himself and he had acted to prevent the potion from being destroyed. Or the honey from being burnt in this case. The boy had acted as a Potions Master would - recognizing a mistake and acting upon it to safe a potion, as even they made their mistakes.

The sound of a vial being opened made him turn to find Longbottom adding the essence of gilmore weed two steps too soon and instinctively he reached over to grab the student's wrist.

"If you let one drop slip from this pipette, I won't hesitate to pour that potion down your throat and watch mercilessly while you throw up for at least an hour, Mr. Longbottom." He said, his black eyes piercing the boy that looked at him startled and frightened. "If you had listened to my earlier explanations, then you would have paid more attention to this special ingredient. Maybe it would be utile for you to look at the board and follow the written steps – if this is not asked too much of you."

He turned and continued his walk through the class, casting another attentive gaze over his son who watched him with startled and frightened eyes just as Longbottom had looked at him a moment ago and he lifted his eyebrow at the boy. He could understand that the boy was startled by his words, but he would have to get used to his teaching style. He simply couldn't afford his students making mistakes during a dangerous subject such as potions.

"Only one pinch of rosemary, Weasley." He said while passing the red haired boy's desk. "Are you incapable of reading what is written on the board, or are you incompetent to count?"

Ronald Weasley blushed as red as were his hair and quickly dropped the rosemary he held between his thumb and forefinger back into the jar he had taken it out of while growling after the Potions Master.

"And five points from Gryffindor for disrespectful behavior towards a teacher." Severus added while walking over to the Slytherin side. He passed Dursley and wordlessly inclined his head. The boy actually was capable when it came to brewing, even if he never had thought the boy would. Not because he was a muggle, even a muggle could brew a simple potion correctly. Without adding his magical signature to the potion, but a muggle _was_ able to brew one nevertheless. He just never had considered the boy being interested and actually ready to partake in any of the wizarding classes in the first place.

But then – he hadn't thought that the boy would see any reason either and here Dursley was, every then and now casting sad and nearly desperate glances towards the front where Harry sat. It was clear that the boy wanted to have a chance to apologize and to talk to his cousin.

Yet – at the same time Severus knew that it simply was too soon. Harry was back to classes since only today and he would need time to get used to it. To get used to being back in class, to get used to the amount of children around him, to get used to the large space that was the castle, to get used to eat in front of the other students and to get used to Dursley being present too.

Crabbe and Goyle, even if they were working separately, had produced a nearly identical brown mess in their cauldrons instead of a potion at all and Severus lifted his eyebrow. Crabbe – whose mess was s shade darker – had copied Goyle who had copied Theodore's actions but had missed at least two steps out of the required seven and Severus scowled at them, refusing to give a comment away.

"Your potion is more than acceptable, Mr. Nott, and I am glad to see that you have prepared yourself for todays class." He said upon reaching Theodore who sat behind Harry and gazing into his cauldron. "You have lowered the heat after adding the caraway seeds?" He then asked.

"Yes, sir." Theodore nodded at him.

"A wise choice and I would like you to explain your actions after handing in your sample."

Another "yes, sir" was the boy's answer and he nodded at the boy who got back to his work.

He stopped at his son's cauldron whose potion was the proper shade of pale green, softly simmering, and he could tell from the faint scent of the steam that came from the cauldron that the boy's potion was accurate. He glanced at his son who looked up at him, pale and trembling, waiting for a remark similar to those he had made towards Longbottom and Weasley,

"You have done well with this potion, Mr. Snape." He said, keeping his voice low and soothing and allowing his gaze to soften for a moment while he inclined his head. "You have recognized your mistake and you have acted to safe the potion, something I expect from each of my students."

"Drink something." He then signed, his eyes on his son, knowing that he would not like the other students hearing his words, especially the Gryffindors. "You have not done so thus far." He gave him a pointed look to ensure the boy would follow his orders and then continued his observations.

He went over to Draco's cauldron and peered inside, nodding at the blond boy just as he had done before with Harry's potion and giving a "well done, Mr. Malfoy" away before heading up towards his desk.

"Bottle your potions and bring your samples up to the desk." The Potions Master said, addressing the entire class. "Who of you can tell me the stomach calming ingredients in this potion? Yes, Mr. Nott?"

"Anise, fennel, and caraway." The boy said and Severus nodded his head.

"That is correct, Mr. Nott." He said. "Five points to Slytherin. Who of you can tell my what the jatropha oil in this potion is for? Miss Granger?"

"To bind the ingredients together." The girl answered.

"Which one of them, Miss Granger?" He asked. "I think I can expect more from you than such a shallow answer."

"The honey and the water that otherwise would swim on the surface, sir." The girl said, and Severus nodded.

"That is correct." He said. "Five points to Gryffindor. Who can tell me why honey has to be the first ingredient in this potion?"

Barely a student knew this answer as mostly water, a basic potion or other liquid ingredients would be the first one but surely not honey, and just as he had thought, no one raised a hand aside from Granger of course. A look at Harry however was all it took and Severus knew that the boy knew the answer. He just was not entirely sure if it would be the right thing, but well – this was his class, and he knew the boy and his possible reactions. And he knew how to handle the situation.

The boy either would try to say the answer, or he would sign the answer. Or write it down. He had enough possibilities. The question was whether he would manage or not and how he would react upon not managing.

"Mr. Snape?" He asked, looking at the boy who jerked startled and then stiffened, turning his eyes up to look at him for a second. He could see the shock and the fear there, the uncertainty how to answer this question in front of the entire class, and even a moment of accusation as if the boy would want to ask him why he required an answer from _him _of all people as he knew he couldn't give one, and for a moment he thought the boy would snap into two.

He however waited patiently, not allowing anything to be seen on his face, not moving but giving away a slight nod towards the petrified boy who opened his mouth, closed it, lifted his hands and then lowered them. But still he waited patiently.

A few snickers came from the Gryffindor side of the room and with a dangerously low and calm "silence" Severus glared over at them, stilling them immediately with his glare before he glanced back towards his son, again giving an encouraging nod. He walked over to Harry, pondering on how he was going to go about this without scaring the already frightened and frustrated boy senseless.

He took a stool from underneath the workbench and seated himself opposite the boy, leaning his lower arms onto the table so that Harry would see his hands, watching him for a moment with a steady but gentle gaze.

"I am sure you do know the answer, Mr. Snape, and you have more than one possibility to give it." He then said softly. "I do not care which one it is, as long as you _do_ give the answer."

"Sign it." Draco beside him said, nudging him with his elbow and – even if electing a flinch – got him out of his stupor successfully. "It's the coolest one."

Harry blinked at him, Severus, not even reacting to Draco's words, and then automatically lifted his hands and signed the answer.

"The crushed ingredients would not have dissipated in the water that is added at the end. But they dissipate in honey."

"That is correct, Mr. Snape." He said, allowing his gaze to linger at his son a few moments longer before turning back towards the class. "The crushed ingredients would not have dissipated in the water that is added at the end, but they dissipate in honey. Five points to Slytherin." He added, his black eyes wandering back to his son and for a moment he didn't mind if the entire class would be able to see that he indeed was proud of his son. For he simply was.

The boy had not only managed a class of double potions - he had brewed a correct potion, had recognized a mistake and acted to safe said potion, he had answered his question at all in a situation that was more than difficult for the boy and he had answered said question correctly. He couldn't have expected more from any of his students. And it surely was more than most of them would were ready to do.

"Five points however from Gryffindor for laughing at a fellow student." He then said. "Mr. Snape, please stay after the class. The rest of you are dismissed. Clean up after yourselves and then get out of my classroom. Do however _attempt_ to concentrate when you read chapter four in your text book for next weeks lessons, because if you dare to repeat today's pathetic and incompetent performance again, you will find yourselves in even more trouble as you ever would be able to imagine."

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**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Transfiguration and being back at home finally_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would be grateful if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	45. back to classes part two

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"Five points however from Gryffindor for laughing at a fellow student." He then said. "Mr. Snape, please stay after the class. The rest of you are dismissed. Clean up after yourselves and then get out of my classroom. Do however attempt to concentrate when you read chapter four in your text book for next weeks lessons, because if you dare to repeat today's pathetic and incompetent performance again, you will find yourselves in even more trouble as you ever would be able to imagine."_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter forty-five**

**Back to classes – part two**

Harry felt strange, confused.

He had managed the potions class, so there was nothing to worry about. He had learned since his earliest childhood to live from day one to day two and from day two to day three and from day three … well, from one day to the other, trying to survive each day and trying to be as comfortable as possible in each moment, knowing that it could change from one moment to the other.

And now he had managed potions, fifty percent of the morning was over and he was still alive. Nothing really worse had happened, he had not been beaten, he even had had breakfast so he wasn't hungry and the Professor had told him to take an apple with him and to drink during potions.

So – why was he so worried?

Why did he feel as if he had let his father down? As if he would have shamed his father?

Professor Snape had even given him a praise, and in front of the class no less. He had not destroyed the potion, he only had forgotten …

Well, to forget things – that had been his problem for years. That had been his problem that always had gotten him into trouble, that had caused his uncle to beat him …

He didn't understand.

Shouldn't he be glad? Shouldn't he feel relieved? Shouldn't he …

"You are not in trouble, Harry." He heard the Professor's, his father's soft voice.

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Sighing heavily Severus looked over at Harry the moment the last student had left the classroom and he got up from the chair he was sitting on. For a moment he even considered to get Harry back to his quarters, the boy surely looked like hell, pale and trembling and fear written all over his face.

'_And you __won't be present in his next class.'_ The small voice in his head whispered, annoying him not for the first time today.

'_But M__inerva will be.'_ He answered the small voice. _'Everything will be fine.'_

He hoped at least. During his class, every time he had passed the boy he had found the child tensing up to the point of being petrified, nearly snapping in half.

'_That might be because of your classroom-persona.'_ The annoying little voice whispered.

'_The boy does know me by now.'_ Severus shook his head. _'He does know that he can trust me, that I would not harm him.'_

'_Then maybe because he is tired and there are too many students around him.'_

'_Enough!'_ Snape growled darkly to the voice. _'Harry will be fine! Minerva will be with him and I won't be far. I will be able to get him out of the class if necessary.'_

Shaking his head he noticed that he behaved as if the boy would be on his way into the forbidden forest to face the acromantulas, centaurs, werewolves, vampires or whatever creatures resided there. He looked up to see Harry standing in front of his desk, unsurely, not daring to look at him, and the question if he had made a mistake was clearly written all over his face. They were back to the beginning, as it seemed. The boy _did _look as if he actually _were _on his way into the forbidden forest to meet all those there residing creatures he, Severus, had just imagined.

"You are not in trouble, Harry." He immediately reassured the boy. "I only wanted you to stay behind so I could accompany you to your next class. You have transfiguration next with Professor McGonagall."

"You … you are … you are not … not … not angry?"

"No." He said, rounding the desk and standing beside the boy, placing his hand onto his son's shoulder. "I'm not angry, son. Or is there a reason, maybe, that I should? Maybe you were planning some mischief?"

The boy's eyes went wide before he shook his head frantically and Severus would have thought the picture being comically if he hadn't known what fear had caused the startled large eyes and the frantic headshaking.

"No … I …" Unable to voice the fact that he hadn't had any mischief in mind the boy broke up, still shaking his head but close to tears now and Severus quickly increased the pressure he had on the small shoulder.

"I was only teasing, child." He said. "Calm down. I know that you won't get into mischief, not on your first day, at least. Are you ready for your next class? Or would you prefer to go back to your room?" _'For a nap.'_ He added in his mind, refusing to add this part aloud, knowing that the boy would refuse a 'nap' with the words that he wasn't a baby.

"Y-yes … yes, sir." The boy answered, his face looking relieved.

"Are you sure, Harry?" Severus asked.

An enthusiastic nod was the boy's answer and the Potions Master lifted his eyebrow.

"Very well." He said, guiding the boy towards the door and then out of the classroom. "Then come along."

He led the boy through the dungeon corridors, up a flight of stairs and along another corridor, another flight of stairs, and finally through the corridor that led them towards the entrance hall.

"I wish you to inform Professor McGonagall at once the moment you feel unwell. Do you understand?" He said and received a "yes, sir" from the boy.

"I wish you to take a drink during your lesson whenever you feel the need to." He continued. "It is imperative that you drink as much as possible. Not to mention that your drink is laced with a mild calming potion and the relaxing draught for your muscles. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Was again the boy's answer.

"Good." Severus said. "If you feel losing your reality or the approach of a panic attack, then do the exercises I taught you. And if you need a rest, then tell Professor McGonagall. Do you understand?"

Another "yes, sir" and he nodded at the boy.

"Very well." He finally said upon reaching the door to the transfiguration classroom. "Remember, Harry, I am just a floo call away."

The boy nodded at him, took a deep breath and then slowly entered the classroom, looking back at him once more before closing the door.

For a moment Severus Snape, dark and snarky Potions Master who scared the students into silence with only his piercing gazes if he so wished, wanted nothing more than to follow his son and to take the child with him, or to sit in the back of the classroom just to watch over him, anything than leaving the boy here alone, but he knew that it had to be done at one point or another. So he hastily turned on his heels with a snap of his robes and a menacing mask in place to cover his worried feelings.

Harry had to attend classes sooner or later, and he, Severus, couldn't be there to watch over him. This was a _school _Harry attended. The students were _meant _to go to their classes alone and _he _was meant to hold his own classes.

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The door behind him closed with a snap and he flinched for a moment before he remembered where he was, and that he better did not allow himself to show weakness. Too many other children were here. He guessed that it would have been alright with Draco. And maybe with Theodore too. He didn't really know that boy, only that Draco had said he was ok and that the Professor had told him to stay close to him. And Theodore had tried to help earlier too, in the great hall.

But all the other children just made him nervous. And he had seen that some of the Gryffindors had cast angry gazes at him in the great hall during breakfast and later during potions. So he guessed that he better was careful with them. He knew that they surely were not bad just because they were in a different house. But he feared them.

The Slytherins kept together, his father had said so, and they kept together because there were no other houses that would stand up for them. So he guessed that he better was careful around the Gryffindors and the other students from other houses, that he better did not show them any weaknesses.

Professor McGonagall was not here yet, he noticed, and the part of the classroom where the Slytherin were seated was at the far end of the entrance, he would have to cross the Gryffindors that were sitting in groups on the desks, leaning against them or each other, while laughing, joking, and chatting rather loudly with each other, causing the Slytherins to shake their heads at them. Honestly, Professor Snape would have their hides if they would behave like that during a lesson if no teacher were present.

The Gryffindors immediately stopped their chatting at his entrance and all their heads turned towards him, gazing at him angrily, and he swallowed thickly before taking another deep breath and then walking past them, keeping as much space between the student's desks and the teacher's desk as possible.

"Hey, Potter!" One of them called over to him. "Is it true that Snape has adopted you?"

"What a shame to have the greasy git as a father." Another one, the one with the red hair said. "Had there been no one else who wanted you?"

"Shut up, Weasley!" Draco said. He hadn't noticed the blond boy coming over to him, followed by Theodore and … Blaze, if he remembered the name correctly. "Leave him alone!"

"Why?" The red haired boy, Weasley, asked back, getting off the desk he had been sitting on. "We lost ten points because of _his father!_"

"What has been your own fault, Weasley." Draco hissed at the red haired boy, for a moment lifting his hand and Harry flinched, sure that the blond boy would take his arm to shove him past the Gryffindor side of the classroom, but then he lowered his hand back to his side and just stood there, together with Blaze, between him and the Gryffindors and he quickly made his way to the front desk near the wall where the blond had been sitting.

"The greasy git is just evil!" He heard another boy from the Gryffindor side while Draco sat beside him.

"Just ignore them." The blond whispered. "They're always like this."

"Maybe he wouldn't be so greasy if he washed his hair sometimes." Another Gryffindor said, loud enough for the Slytherins to hear.

"Don't listen Harry." Theodore whispered, joining them at their desk. "They don't know that the fumes of the potions Severus brews causes his hair to go greasy."

_'Or they don't want to know it.' _Harry thought angrily, resisting the urge to get up, turn around and run out of the classroom and to the Professor's quarters, lock the door behind him and never ever come out. Instead he lifted his bag and got out his transfiguration book, parchment, ink and quill.

"Well, to wash his hair once a month wouldn't help with Snape being an evil git." The one named Weasley called over. "Don't you think, Potter? Or should I say Snape?"

"That will be ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley." Professor McGonagall's voice was heard clearly and it sounded more than just a little angry. "For the display of utter disrespect towards a teacher. And another ten points for going against another student. I am sure that I did not teach you such behavior and you will serve detention this night with me for shaming the house of Gryffindor. Now take your seats and pay attention."

A lot of groans and nagging was heard from the Gryffindors, but quickly silence settled into the classroom as Professor McGonagall glared at them still angrily. If she were just a bit like Professor Snape, then she surely would have a word with them later after their class, Harry thought, and he shuddered.

"As you feel the need to act like small children, you will be handled as such." The Professor said. "That for you will put your wands away and open your books on page twenty-one."

Rustling of paper was heard as seventeen students opened their books with groans and grumbling.

"You will read chapter five silently." Professor McGonagall continued, walking up the aisle towards her desk. "You have an hour. After that you will put your books away and answer the questions I until then will have prepared for you."

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It had been an easy quiz. A really easy quiz.

Not that he'd had a quiz before to compare this one with, but he had known all the answers Professor McGonagall had written on the board with a flick of her wand and he was sure that he had answered them correctly. And he even was sure that she would be able to read his answers. His writing had improved immensely throughout the past weeks and he sometimes looked at the words and wondered how much alike his father's writing his own was.

Well, of course, the Professor had taught him, had shown him the letters and how to write in the first place. But he had seen some of the essays Draco had written, when they had done their homework together, and the blond boy's writing was completely different from his. And much more graceful, he had to admit with a low sigh. If he just would be able to write like this one day, he would be glad. The other boy's writing was much more elegant and round and … well … more graceful.

But at least Professor McGonagall would be able to decipher the answers he had given.

And well, his spelling mistakes had been improved too during the past weeks. He still made a few of them, especially with new words he never had written before, but Professor Snape always corrected them - with his red ink - and he tried to remember them afterwards. It didn't work always, but mostly. The Professor at least had said that he was satisfied with his writing. Something that had made him smile at the man.

Secretly!

And now he had managed this quiz really well. Perhaps he really wasn't as inept as he had thought he was? And perhaps the Professor really wouldn't have to be ashamed of him?

Packing his things together he bent down to get his book bag, but it wasn't there anymore and with frightened eyes he frantically scanned the classroom, easily noticing the Weasley boy having it on his desk, his hand resting on the soft leather it was made of and a grin on his face.

"Want this bag back, Snape?" The read head hissed quietly.

Of course he wanted it back. He was in so much trouble if he got home to the Professor without this bag.

He'd had insisted that he didn't need a book bag, that he had the backpack the Dursleys had given him for the few things he had taken with him to Hogwarts, and that it would be enough. But Professor Snape had growled at him and then he had gotten him this book bag from a shop in Hogsmead. The Professor had left the castle for this book bag only and he was sure that it had been expensive either. Well, he hadn't much experience with money, but he knew that Dudley had had such a bag before, and not even one made of leather but of some kind of textile, and that _this _one _had _been expensive.

So – yes, he guessed that the Professor would be furious if he lost this bag now, on his first day of classes no less.

So he nodded his head at the red haired boy.

"You cost me thirty points, Snape." The boy hissed angrily. "And you got me into detention. So … ask nicely, _Snape_. And maybe I'll give it to you."

He couldn't do that!

How could he ask … how could he use his voice in such a situation? He would stutter and he would stumble over the words and he would shame his father and he would …

Knowing no other way than to take his quill and parchment he wrote 'may I have my book bag, please?' and handed the piece of parchment over to the other boy, desperately trying to hide the trembling of his fingers. Without success.

But the other boy just sneered at him, cast a cold glance at him but didn't take the parchment.

"No." He said. "You will have to ask for it, Snape. With your voice."

Gritting his teeth and clenching his fingers into tight fists he closed his mouth, tried to count to ten to calm his nerves, and then reopened them. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

But if he didn't ask, then Professor Snape would be furious with him. And then he …

And …

He couldn't breath.

He tried to remember what the Professor had said what he should do in such a situation – but he couldn't remember. He simply couldn't remember the words the Professor had used. He couldn't remember what to do, what the Professor had told him to do. He couldn't remember and …

"Leave him alone and give this book bag back, Weasley." He heard a voice beside him, felt hands touching his shoulder and he flinched away from the touch, not recognizing whom the voice or the hands belonged to.

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"Why should I?" Weasley asked. "Snape has taken enough points from us Gryffindors, and given enough detentions. And now the greasy git's son is here and because of him we lose even more points, and get even more detention."

"Ronald!" Granger had turned towards them and tried to reason with Weasley.

Furrowing his brows angrily Theodore turned towards Harry to look at the other boy and then took a step closer to Weasley. Harry didn't look so good and he could understand why, even if he knew that there was no rational reason. Professor Snape wouldn't be angry at Harry. Not because of this.

Well, Draco was taking care of Harry, even if Harry didn't look as if he responded well to Draco. He saw him flinching away from him. Well, ok, he really shouldn't have gone to Professor McGonagall to hand in his quiz at the same time as Draco had. One of them should have stayed with Harry. Angrily he turned back to Weasley.

"It has been your own fault, Weasley and now give back this …"

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" Professor McGonagall came over to them and lifting his gaze at her he noticed that Harry, Draco, he himself and Weasley and Granger were the only ones left in the classroom. Well, together with their transfiguration teacher.

He also noticed their head of house entering the room and he breathed a sigh of relief. Professor Snape would sort things out, as always.

The professor didn't even hesitate to stand in the doorway until he took in the situation but walked over to Harry at once and after a short gaze down his nose he handed him a vial. With a gentle and calming hand on his shoulder he ordered him to drink it. Well, he had to do so twice, as Harry didn't respond to him at first, just blinked at him in a strange way. But then he took the vial and downed the potion within.

Theodore guessed it was a calming draught by the color of it, and he stepped back to let his head of house handle things. At least the man had gotten Harry calm, the bag wasn't so important. And besides, Weasley wouldn't dare to refuse handing the bag over to Snape, and he nearly grinned. Nearly!

One better didn't grin in front of Professor Snape if the man was angry.

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He had known it was a bad idea to let Harry alone into the classroom. He just had known it.

Walking along the front row desks he took in the situation at once and his anger boiled. He would give Weasley detention for at least a month, and he would have him cleaning the most dirty cauldrons he could find, but first he had to care for his son.

Just one look at him had been enough to know that Harry was in a – nearly – full blown panic attack.

Placing one hand at the boy's shoulder to calm him, in hopes the child would recognize the touch as what it was, he reached his other hand into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a calming draught. Of course Harry flinched away from the touch, startled, frightened, probably not recognizing his presence and he increased the hold on the boy's shoulder, knelt in front of his son, not caring that Weasley looked at him with eyes that threatened to fall out of his head.

"Hush, child." He softly whispered. "It is me, your father. You are safe, child. Relax. Concentrate onto the glass of the vial that is a real point right here and now." He said, while undoing the stopper and placing the vial into the boy's hand.

"Drink it." He said when Harry finally looked at him, blinking in confusion. At least the boy was back, probably not knowing when he, Severus, had entered the classroom. "Drink it!" He repeated, more forcefully, and the boy did, lifted the vial to his lips with a trembling hand and then downed its contents.

"Good." The Potions Master said, gazing sternly at his son. "Stay right here." Then he got up from the floor where he had been kneeling and turned towards Weasley who had blinked at him in pure shock.

The stupid boy still had Harry's book bag on his desk and his hand laying atop the bag and Severus simply extended his hand towards the redhead.

"I believe this bag does not belong to you, Mr. Weasley." He quietly said, his voice calm. "Hand it over."

But Weasley stood there, unmoving, just gazing at him with large eyes. Well, the boy at least knew that he was in deeper trouble than he probably could handle.

"Now!" He growled threateningly, and finally Weasley did as he was told and handed him the book bag, his hands shaking, swallowing thickly.

He took the book bag and handed it over to Draco.

"Please bring Mr. Snape's bag into my office, Mr. Malfoy, and then go to the great hall for lunch." He said. "Mr. Nott will accompany you."

"Please tell me, Mr. Weasley, you did not steel Mr. Snape's book bag." Minerva gasped the moment Draco and Theodore left the classroom.

She got no answer from Weasley. He hadn't expected him to give one. The boy just looked at him frightened.

"As for you, Mr. Weasley, care to explain what you did with Mr. Snape's book bag on your desk?"

"I … I …" The boy stammered and he lifted his eyebrow at the youngest Weasley. He knew what Minerva would do and he nearly pitied Molly. This woman really had enough trouble with the twins, she didn't need her youngest son to cause trouble too. He remembered Charly and Bill Weasley and both of them had gotten into some mischief too, but nothing serious. Percy Weasley was another matter. That boy was learning well, but he was not the typical loyal Weasley family member, more centered around his self. Fred and George Weasley had gotten into a lot of trouble throughout the three years they attended Hogwarts, but nothing that actually harmed another student in such a way as Ronald Weasley right now had.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" He asked.

"I … I just …" The Gryffindor tried again but stopped, knowing that he had no excuse. He lowered his eyes onto his desk and the Potions Master followed his gaze with his eyes until his own gaze fell onto a piece of parchment. The handwriting on this parchment however was strangely known to him and it wasn't Weasley's. His face still a calm mask of indifference, he once more extended his hand, demanding the parchment.

Weasley paled but once more he seemed to know that there was no way out and so he took the parchment and reached it over to the Potions Master who took one look at it and then nearly growled.

"If I take this correctly, Mr. Weasley, and I am sure I do, then Mr. Snape had asked you to hand over his bag to him." He hissed angrily at the boy, leaning closer. "And he did so in a polite way. Why did you not give back his property then?"

"Mr. Weasley?" Minerva startled asked after reading the parchment Severus had handed her and after Weasley didn't answer.

"Well … I was about to do …"

Severus looked over at Harry and the boy gave a hesitant nod away, a nod however that did not convince the Potions Master – and neither Minerva.

"I am sure, Mr. Weasley, you do know that I won't allow members of my house lying." She said in a clipped tone of voice. "Do not shame your house more than you already did by taking possession that is not yours. You already lost your house twenty points this morning."

"Thirty in this case, I fear." Snape said in his silkiest voice.

Minerva took a deep breath and then looked back at the boy.

"If you do not want to make a total of fifty or worse, then I suggest you answer truthfully, Mr. Weasley." She said, sounding more than just angrily. "And maybe you bear in mind that I heard Mr. Nott asking you to hand the bag over the moment I turned towards you, when you give your answer. Mr. Potter did not write his request after that, but before."

"Well, yes!" Weasley finally answered angrily. "I was angry at him." He said, pointing at Harry.

"_He _– has a name, Mr. Weasley." Minerva said angrily.

"Well … Snape. I have been angry at Snape! So what? I just wanted to get back at him. I didn't start it."

"Watch your tongue, young man!" Minerva said, her eyes furiously.

"I took points from you, Mr. Weasley, because of your cheek in my class and because you laughed at a fellow student for his disability, and you got back at my son instead. How very noble of you."

"Did I hear correctly, Mr. Weasley?" Minerva asked and Snape, who had forgotten about her for a moment, turned towards her, sure that the woman knew exactly what his words meant, that Weasly had laughed because of Harry not being able to speak in his class. Well, he didn't really care if Weasley got into more trouble with his head of house. He just normally dealt with the students on his own. He didn't need their heads of houses to deal with them.

"He laughed at Mr. Snape's disability to give a verbal answer in class." He simply informed her.

"You may be glad, Mr. Weasley, that you did not act in such a way in my class, or you would have lost more than just five points. Honestly, your behavior is not what I expect from my Gryffindors. And now again, why did you not hand over the bag to Mr. Snape the moment he asked you to?"

"Well … I … I …"

Catching a movement out of the corner of his eyes Severus looked over at his son and saw him shaking his head.

"Please …" The boy signed. "Don't … I want to go home …"

Gritting his teeth the Potions Master took a deep breath and then nodded. As much as he wished to know what exactly had happened, he knew that his son was ready to drop. The boy was too pale for his liking, trembling and he knew he wasn't ready to take much more today.

"You will have detention with me, Mr. Weasley, cleaning cauldrons in my laboratory." He said. "Each evening from dinner to curfew, until you are ready to tell me the truth of what exactly happened today. Mr. Snape." He said, extending his hand to indicate his son to accompany him out of the classroom, what the boy gladly did.

"I will write to your parents, Mr. Weasley." He heard Minerva saying while he left the classroom with his son. "I am sure you are aware that I can't accept such behavior from you and that …" The rest he didn't hear but he didn't care either. He would deal with Weasley the moment he came to tell the truth.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Are you alright?" Severus asked while slowly walking towards the dungeons and their quarters. He knew that he wouldn't even have to try and take the boy to the great hall for lunch. Harry was more than just upset, his near panic attack earlier had shown as much, and the boy pleading with him to leave it be, indicating that he just wanted to go home, told him enough too. The boy was at the end of his emotional rope, at the very end of it, and he didn't even dare to touch the boy to calm him. Not now. The boy would not take it well right now and he tried to avoid everything that would upset the child further.

He only got a nod from Harry and so he continued walking.

"Are you truly alright?" He again asked when they finally were in the living room and he had his door closed.

Harry wanted to answer 'yes', but before he even could give a nod away he felt the trembling of his body increase and his head turn dizzy. He raised his hand to his forehead and took another step to the sofa when the world became black and blurry around him and he dropped to the ground.

Severus worriedly furrowed his brows the moment Harry lifted his hand to his forehead, but his heart threatened to stop beating when he saw the boy dropping to the ground and a moment later he knelt beside his son and running one hand behind the child's back he lifted his upper body and folded the child into his arms.

"Harry!" He called out, startled. "What is wrong?" But he got no answer aside from the boy burrowing his face into his robes, clenching his fists into his robes. So he simply picked the boy up and laid him onto the sofa. He wanted to get up to make a cup of tea for the boy, but the child clung to him like a limpet, shaking his head, and the Potions Master had no other choice than to sit himself at the sofa too. He shifted his son into his arms and tightened his embrace until the trembling of the small form slowly faded.

He really should brew a potion for himself, one that would save him from an early death caused by a heart attack that was caused by his son's stunts.

"You really should get out of this habit to drop or to run against furniture." He tried to joke. "You might break something one day."

"Th-they … they … they joked about … about you." The boy whispered, angrily curling his hands into fists again. "Th-they … they s-said … they said nasty … nasty things."

Severus looked down at the child in his arms, blinking in near shock.

This child had been distressed because some of the other students said nasty things about him, Severus! He actually seemed to be more upset because of _this_ than because of Weasley being unfair to him, Harry! Never before had he encountered anyone loyal enough to him to take offence on his behalf, aside from Lily, of course, and maybe Minerva, and sometimes even Albus. But otherwise?

Taking a deep breath he ran his hand over the boy's forehead and through the black hair that was nearly as long as his own meanwhile.

"I can assure you, that I am unaffected by the fact that your fellow students dislike me." He said in a calm voice. "I am their teacher and mentor and not their friend, and if they do not like my ways of teaching, then that is not my problem but theirs alone. What I however _do_ demand from them is obedience, hard work and that, if they speak to me directly, then they do so with respect. I am not here for them to like me, but to teach them and to keep them safe in a dangerous class."

"But … but it … it isn't … it isn't fair!" The boy said angrily.

"It might not be, but that is what is the normal way." He answered. "Teachers try to teach the students, they expect them to work hard and to learn. They give homework and they test them so they know what they have learned. The students, that are just children, complain about the work they have to do. They rather would like to play Quidditch the entire day, or to play pranks. And as I am not a kind teacher that takes a lot of house points and gives detention, they complain about teachers in general and about me in particular. It is nothing that I had not expected when I started teaching here at Hogwarts."

"But … but I … I don-don't … I don't want them being mean!"

"You won't be able to change it." Severus said. "What I however won't accept is them punishing _you _for _me _'being mean' to them. They should be able to difference between me and my son."

"But …"

"There are no buts, Harry." Severus sternly said. "I won't accept such behavior from them. And now tell me, what have you covered today in transfiguration?"

Well, as it seemed, the diversion worked. The boy's face lit up immediately and he sat up, starting to explain how his transfiguration class had went.

"Pro-profes-professor Mc-McGonagall-Gonagall was an-angry. And … and she had … had us read-reading … reading chapter five from … from the … from the book. About … about the … the dif-difference … be-between … using a charm … or … or a trans-transfigure-figuration … trans- … transfigure-ation …trans …" The boy seemed to get more and more frustrated while not getting out the words correctly and Severus simply placed his hand atop the boy's arm to stop him and to get his attention, looking at him calmly. "… the dif-ference be-tween … using a charm … or a … trans-fi-gu-ration spell … spell … to … to … get a … to get a stone … into a but-button. And … and then … she … and then she made us … us … answering a quiz."

Giving a relieved sigh away the boy leaned back at him and Severus had to resist the urge to smile. Never before had the boy said so much in one go. It definitely was an improvement - and it definitely showed how eager the boy was too. Not to mention after the tiring morning the boy had had today. Having succeeded in potions and then having had transfiguration and a quarrel with the youngest Weasley.

"And have you been successful in answering the quiz she gave?" He asked, again running his hand through his son's hair.

"Yes!" The boy placed both hands on his, Severus' chest and pushed himself upright again, drawing his legs underneath him so he knelt on the sofa beside him, his eyes large and for a moment Severus heart clenched painfully at the nearly childish picture in front of him. If only the boy had had a childhood in which he would have been allowed to be so eager and to show such natural childish reactions.

"I … I ans-answered … I answered … I answered all … all the ques-questions … I ans-answered ... I answered all the ques-questions … and … and … and I wrote … and I made no … I wrote … wrote really … really slow … slow … and … I … I made … I made … no … I made no … no … no stains … and … no stains … and … and … no stains … and … and …"

"Slowly, Harry." Severus said, again placing his hand at the boy's arm. "I am sure you will have enough time to tell me all you want to tell. There is no need to haste. Take a deep breath and talk slower. The words will come easier this way."

How did the boy do this? How did this child do this? How did the child worm his way into his heart deeper and deeper? How did the boy manage to trust him so much?

A few weeks ago he'd had to fight to get something to eat into the child, to get him to sleep. The simplest things in life and he'd had to fight the boy for it. A few weeks ago he'd had to fight to get the boy to use at least signs or a parchment. And now the child tried to tell him everything that happened in double transfiguration within five minutes until he stumbled over the words and … how did the boy do this? Changing and trusting him so quickly? Changing him, Severus, so quickly? And so completely?

"I … I wrote all … all the answers." The boy said, slower and his face a mask of concentration. "And … and I … I made no stains with … with the ink. And I … and I … I think I didn't make … I didn't make too many … I didn't make too many mis-mistakes."

The boy looked up at him, nearly a smile on his face – nearly – but his eyes definitely looked at him with a mixture of pride, anxity, fear and expectation.

"I see you have given your best effort, Harry." Severus said, pulling the boy back into his arms. "And that is all I expect of you. That was well done."

He didn't see the small smile that tucked at his son's lips while the boy had his face hidden in his robes.

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"That won't suffice, Mr. Snape." The Potions Master said, his eyebrow lifted at the boy that was sitting in front of him and his eyes rested sternly on the boy's plate.

Well, as much progress the child had made during the past weeks – in one thing he still had problems. In more than one things actually, but one of those things presented itself right now. The boy still did not take food by himself. Not without being ordered to, and even then just a little and not from everything that was laid out.

"But … but I … I had … I had eggs … and sau-sausa-sausages at breakfast."

"Only after I got them on your plate and even then you didn't really eat them. You need to eat a healthy meal thrice a day, child. Did you at least eat your apple sometimes during your morning classes?"

A shaking of his head was the boy's answer and he continued.

"I thought so. You need to eat fruits, vegetables and meat, child. Your body will finally start to grow and gain weight, at least if you are properly nourished. And a slice of toast at breakfast surely is _not _sufficient. Nor is a handful of rice without anything else. Take some vegetables and chicken also."

The boy did, hesitantly, take a bit of the vegetables, but he eyed the chicken pieces carefully before ignoring them completely and with a lifting of his eyebrow Severus placed two slices on the boy's plate, ignoring the short happiness in the green eyes. Two month nearly, and still the boy did not dare to take from the meat for himself, or to take anything that was not meant to be basic food – or expensive.

This blasted aunt from this child seemed to had beaten into him what kinds of food were too expensive for him to have and the boy had remembered them well. Harry did not overly like meat in general, even had a dislike against it somehow, whatever reason for, but he knew that he liked chicken.

"What was it this morning during potions, Harry?" He asked, lowering his head to one side.

"Uhm … well …" The boy made and patiently he waited while the boy shoved some of the vegetables from one side of the plate to the other, sorting carrots, peas and corn into different piles by the action. "I … I forgot … I forgot to prepare … I forgot to prepare the ing-ingre-ingredients … before … before lighting the fire." He then slowly said, trying to concentrate on the words and what he wanted to say and Severus recognized it as what it was. The boy thought he was in deep enough trouble having made this mistake during potions without annoying him with his stuttering.

"And that was a problem, child?" He asked, lowering his head inquiringly to one side.

"It was … it was a mistake."

"So?"

"You … I mean … you see … it was … it was potions … and … and you … you're the … you're the Potions Master … and … well … I mean … as your son … I …"

"You thought, as my son, you were expected to be perfect in potions." Severus simply stated after the boy didn't continue on his own. "Weren't you?"

Harry nodded at him with a miserable face.

"You do recognize that being the Potions Master's son does not mean you have to be perfect, don't you?" He sighed. "You will have to learn the subject as well as every other student has. You were not born with the knowledge that is required when brewing potions. And so I surely won't be angry at you for making a mistake during potions. In the contrary. You have recognized your mistake and you have remedied the problem by turning off the fire while preparing your ingredients so the honey would not be burnt. Did you not recognize the smell of burnt honey coming from some of the cauldrons?"

"I … I have." The boy answered quietly, still looking miserable. "Smelt it … I mean."

"So you know that others too made the same mistake as you have, with the difference that they did not react to save their potions in turning off their fires while they prepared their ingredients. So you have no reason to feel miserable. You have handed in a quite acceptable potion. I would be glad if at least half the class would have handed in a work as good as yours."

"Re-really?"

"Yes, really." Severus reassured. "Eat."

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"Would you like to play a game of chess before bed, Harry?" Severus asked, stepping into the living room after dinner this evening.

The boy didn't answer though, just held a photo in his hand. The picture was the one he had standing on the piano and it showed the two of them sitting on the sofa. He had not noticed Minerva taking out her camera and taking the picture of them, but he liked this one, the child in it sitting beside him, leaning sideways against him, his eyes closed while he himself had his arm around the boy's thin shoulders, carding his hand through the child's mop of black hair.

Stepping closer he placed both his hands on the boy's shoulders and looked at the picture too.

Minerva had taken it four weeks ago, and the boy in it was still so very thin and pale, and ill looking, with dark circles underneath the closed eyes and a tired face, it nearly hurt Severus while looking at it. Looking down at the child that now was standing in front of him, he noticed that the boy still was too small, too thin and too pale, that he still looked ill, but he didn't look so _deathly _ill anymore. Well, it would take a few more weeks, he knew, maybe even months, until the boy would be healthy.

'_If he ever would be or look healthy at all.'_ The small annoying voice in his head whispered and he imagined kicking it away, the voice hitting the wall opposite and he smirked satisfied. It felt good to kick this little annoying voice, even if it was only mentally.

The boy sighed when he felt the Potions Master standing behind him, leaned backwards against the man's strong frame, and Severus could sense the boy's exhaustion of the day settling in. He didn't bother to take the picture and to place it back at the piano, he could do so later, but steered his son towards the sofa where he continued holding his son. He meanwhile was used to the child's need of being held. Honestly, no one else had held this child before and of course the child now needed to catch up all those physical supports and comforts. The child needed to catch up all those things he had missed from smallest childhood, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to make it up to the child. Years of being locked away at the best and beaten, starved and raped at the worst, years of never being held, of having to watch his cousin being held while he was ignored, it was a small miracle that the child was doing as well as he actually did.

The boy soon drifted off to sleep while the Potions Master was holding him in his arms, the boy's head resting in the crook of his left arm while his right one was draped over the child's small form.

Heaving a sigh he lifted the small form into his arms and carried his son into his room, placed him atop the boy's bed and then tucked the covers around the sleeping child. He watched him for a few more minutes, sitting at the armchair beside the bed, while he told himself that he did this only to ensure that the boy had a healthy sleep so he would be able to concentrate on his classes tomorrow.

'_You're fooling yourself.'_ The small voice said. _'You've gone mental.'_

Well, again he kicked the small annoying voice, again imagining it hitting the wall across from him and slowly sliding down said wall before falling on the floor in a heap, and again he smirked at the imagined picture.

Even if he sat here and watched the child's sleep for another reason than to simply ensure that the boy had a healthy sleep and would be able to concentrate on his tomorrow's classes, this child was worth it. Harry surely was nothing like the usual Hogwarts students.

It was not that his lesson had gone bad. Severus – even if he was reluctant to admit it – knew that he often spent hours speaking to stone walls in the potions classroom in his dungeons, not a single word noticed in the empty brains of the idiots he taught - and surely not remembered. Whereas Harry was a teacher's dream - attentive, hard working, always wanting to please, respectful and willing to ask intelligent questions.

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It had been half past one in the morning when he finally had left the nursery and went into his own bedroom, tiredly laying down atop his own bed and immediately falling asleep, just to be awakened by a strange feeling half an hour later.

He sat up in bed, looking around but finding no disturbance, and he was just about to lay back down when the feeling of unease increased. He got up and went to his son's room, just in case.

Maybe the boy's sleep was an unease one, or he had a nightmare, even if he didn't hear him crying out this time.

Was it possible that he had bonded with the boy so strongly that he felt the boy's unease?

When had the bond manifested itself so deeply? He never had thought that he even would be able to create such a strong bond with another person.

But well – Harry was not just another person. Harry was his son …

Pushing such thoughts away to consider later, Severus entered his son's room and he immediately saw the boy thrashing around in his bed, the small and pale, thin face a mask of pure terror, the small body tense and jerking, and he banished the spell Harry had installed around his bed unconsciously. He immediately winced as the raw sound of his son's agonizing fear swept over him in a wave and he rushed to the child's bed, tried to gather the boy in his arms.

His son however fought back, fought much harder than Severus had expected him, fought with fists, with nails and teeth, and he actually had to wrestle the boy until he had him securely in his arms, the boy's back pressed against his chest and his arms secured in front of the boy's chest by Severus' hands so he could harm neither himself nor the Potions Master, the man whispering gently and soothingly to the child all the time – without success.

"Harry Severus Snape!" He finally called out sharply and those sharp words finally got the boy out of his nightmare. His eyes snapped open and he looked around, finally noticing that he was in his father's arms and turning his head his green and startled eyes met the black and calm ones of his father. In an instant the child sagged against the Potions Master like a puppet whose strings were cut, reduced to soft whimpers and sobs, tears finally running down the pale cheeks and the child turned in the man's grip until he could hide his face in the fabric of the dark pyjama top his father was wearing while small fists gripped the hem of the same dark fabric that immediately was twisted in them.

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**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Charms and defence – Harry's second day of classes with the weekend to approach__._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	46. charms, defense and the library

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"Harry Severus Snape!" He finally called out sharply and those sharp words finally got the boy out of his nightmare. His eyes snapped open and he looked around, finally noticing that he was in his father's arms and turning his head his green and startled eyes met the black and calm ones of his father. In an instant the child sagged against the Potions Master like a puppet whose strings were cut, reduced to soft whimpers and sobs, tears finally running down the pale cheeks and the child turned in the man's grip until he could hide his face in the fabric of the dark pyjama top his father was wearing while small fists gripped the hem of the same dark fabric that immediately was twisted in them._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter forty-six**

**Charms, defense and the library**

Filius looked over the students, standing atop his usual stack of books so he reached over his desk, and he immediately found Harry sitting beside Draco in the front row of the Slytherin table. Smiling, he nodded at the child.

They would cast the wards around Prince Manor shortly after Halloween, preferably at November 14th, the day of family. It was a wizarding holiday that was very old and most of the witches and wizards didn't know anymore what that day actually meant. They just celebrated it because they would have a day off then, to spend with their families, but most of them had no idea how old it was and most of them had no idea of the ancient magic that could be released at that day. What was the reason they wanted to install the wards then.

His gaze went over the children in front of him, and suddenly he flicked his wand and all the books on the student's desks floated over to a shelf where they settled down in a neat stack. Another flick of his wand and the desks too vanished, just to reappear along the walls of the classroom, leaving the students sitting in the midst of the room without them. He would hold a different class today.

"Form a circle, all of you." He said, hopping from the stack of books and levitating his own chair over to the children, where he sat down.

The students looked at each other, startled for a moment, nearly shocked, but then they obeyed and pushed their chairs over to him, forming a circle and sitting back down. Harry was to his left with Draco beside him and Miss Granger was to his right with Mr. Weasley beside him.

Nodding in satisfaction, he pointed his wand at the floor in the middle of the circle they were forming and a large round parchment appeared, large enough so it nearly touched their feet. Another flick of his wand transfigured the student's quills into black markers. The quills would be too thin to write on that parchment for all to read.

"Now, I want you to think about your families." He said. "And then one by one all of you will write down one word that is related to that term. Anything that comes to your mind."

Again the students looked at each other, as if their teacher had gone crazy, but then they shrugged.

"It's something that is done in muggle primary school." Miss Granger beside him piped up and he smiled.

"Really?" He asked her. "Well the idea just came to my mind. That actually proves that muggles are not as simple-minded as some of you might think. Then, let us try if this can work for this lesson. Miss Granger, you may begin."

She got up and kneeling in front of the paper she wrote down 'parents'.

"Very good, Miss Granger." Filius said. "You are next, Mr. Weasley."

Mr. Weasley too got from his chair and kneeling at the parchment he looked over at him, as if to ask if he really was serious about this. He nodded at the red haired boy and Mr. Weasley lowered his marker towards the parchment. He wrote 'Brothers' and then sat back at his chair.

Mr. Finnigan was next and wrote 'Mother's day', followed by Mr. Thomas who wrote 'discussions' and Mr. Longbottom writing down 'granny'. By the time the Gryffindors were through and Miss Bulstrode from Slytherin got from her chair, there was written 'summer holidays', 'ice cream' and 'family pictures'. Miss Bulstrode however got up, nearly jumping, with a big grin on her face and she was the first who actually knelt onto the parchment to reach the middle of it. She wrote 'garden', and then crept back and got back to her chair.

Giggling about the creeping Miss Parkinson got up and mirrored Miss Bulstrode's actions. Only the girl wrote 'home'.

Words like 'scolding', 'love', 'dinner' and 'teasing' followed until it was Miss Greengrass' turn. The girl however sat there, thinking, looking at the words that were in front of her on the parchment, the words her classmates had written down this far, and after a while she shook her head. She got up and wrote down 'lies'.

Filius cast a short glance at Mr. Potter. Well, at Mr. Snape, actually, he had to remind himself, and he could tell that the boy beside him had gotten very nervous.

He knew that the boy didn't fear him. They actually had gotten along pretty well since they had met, and he knew that _that_ may be due to his short size. The boy didn't feel threatened by him, not much at least. He nevertheless knew, even as small as he was, he would have a small startled and frightened little boy, if he touched him or moved too close. Right now the boy maybe just didn't know what to write. He hadn't had any good experiences when it came to the term family after all, and he wondered if he had made a mistake by suggesting this term. Maybe he should have used different holidays for this instead.

Mr. Nott meanwhile had written down 'family house elf' and Mr. Malfoy was about to write 'manners'.

The moment however Mr. Malfoy sat on his chair, he realized his wrong thinking. Harry got off his chair, slowly and carefully, but he could see that the boy barely restrained himself. He rather looked as if he would like to jump up and throw himself at the parchment.

He knelt down and wrote, his movements slow and awkward, but the writing itself even, fine and nearly in an old style. When the boy got up and back to his chair, Filius had could see what he had written and he had to smile. He had expected the boy to write down words that he would relate to being abused by his family, or neglected by his family.

The boy however had written down 'comfort'. And in tiny little letters he had added 'warmth and safety' underneath.

He himself got up and wrote down 'family charms' and then got back to his chair.

"Now," he started, "I want you all to pick a word, not your own, and explain what it might mean. Mr. Potter, this time, you might start."

The boy looked at him startled, with large, green eyes, his head shaking slightly from one side to the other, and his hands going into tight fists. He waited for a while, trying to ignore the pleading look in those much too large, green eyes, but finally he sighed, giving in and at the same time wondering what in Merlin's name Severus would do in such a situation.

Maybe Severus wouldn't ask the boy a question he would have to answer in his lesson at all. Maybe Severus would not back away, or he would, or he … well, knowing Severus he would _not_ back away. What had he said once?

_"H__e needs someone who does not shy away from getting an abused child to cope with the situation, with things that are necessary but which he does fear. And as I am known as a cold hearted bastard, I do not shy away from such."_

And suddenly he understood _what exactly_ Severus had meant with his words. What it meant to force a child to do something he was afraid of doing while at the same time he knew that he, Filius, could not do so and he wondered how Severus could.

Well, he knew Severus since years, and he had seen the man interacting with that particular child, and considering the fact that the man barely had any patience with any children, he had been startled at _how_ patient the Potions Master had been with Harry, waiting for answers, demanding answers, wordlessly, without backing away.

Sighing he just nodded at the child beside him to ensure that it was ok and then looked at Mr. Malfoy, expectantly.

"Comfort." The blond boy started, looking at Harry, smiling. "I guess it really explains all the good stuff that is connected to the term 'family'. A father would comfort his child as would a mother. And for each family member his home will be comfort as well. Even warmth and safety means comfort, you wouldn't have needed to write those two down too, Harry, it means the same. It is nothing you can touch, but you can feel it, and then it touches you. It touches you until you physically can feel it. It even can suffocate you, if you are not used to it, I guess, but if you have a family that cares for you and if you can trust your family, then you won't suffocate, because you will be comforted by him."

Looking at the black haired boy too, Filius could see the boy looking down at the words he had written, but a soft smile was starting to form on the pale face and he knew that he too had not missed Mr. Malfoy saying 'him' instead of 'them', meaning not family members in general, but Severus in particular.

"Very good, Mr. Malfoy, that makes two points for Slytherin." He said, clapping his hands in excitement.

He knew that most of his colleagues would roll his eyes at his display of excitement, and he also knew that most probably he would look childish, clapping his hands like this, but that was some of the things he just couldn't help and he had long ago stopped trying to keep himself from doing so. He simply was who he was.

He was overexcited again when Miss Granger explained the words 'mother's day' Mr. Finnigan had written down, as he hadn't known what it was and he thought it was a good day, he liked it and wondered why in the wizarding world this holyday wasn't celebrated.

Half an hour later the class had explained every word on the parchment, he himself had picked one of the last two remaining ones, as Harry had not explained one verbally. The one he himself had written down he had left alone while he had picked the one no one had known what to do with, 'lies'.

"Well." He had said. "Lies are the opposite from truth. In a family, there should be no need to lie, there should be enough trust to admit even bad things without lying. And a child always should learn from earliest childhood on to not tell lies, while the parents at the same time should learn this too, because if the parents are lying to their children about things, because they worry, because they want to comfort the children in bad situations, or because they feel uncomfortable admitting something, then the child cannot learn to always tell the truth either. And – just for example ..." – he refused to look at Harry – "... if a child has to fear a punishment like abuse or neglect, then with time said child learns to lie. And just the more admiring is it then, if that child then still does not succumb to lies. Because, only if a person never lies to you, never mind what, you can trust said person. And trust, we have learned, is one of the most important things concerning family."

He would have liked to explain that the still remaining Death Eaters raised their children with lies, but at the same time he knew that it wouldn't be such a good idea. He maybe would be able to get some of the other children to understand why the Death Eater children might still be loyal to their families, but at the same time he knew that said Death Eater children would feel offended and he didn't wish that. He would not shy away talking to them in privacy, but not in front of the entire class and suddenly he understood what Severus had meant, telling him that his Slytherins too were punished by him for misdeeds, that he only did so in privacy.

Within this particular lesson not only the children would learn something, but he himeslf had learned something too and he thought that he maybe should hold such a lesson more often.

There was silence for a few moments.

But then Miss Granger beside him lifted her hand.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Well, you had written down 'family charms', Professor." The girl said. "What is it?"

"The family charms, are charms, only working on one day during the year. Who can tell me at what day?"

Mr. Malfoy lifted his hand this time.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

"On November, 14th, the family holiday." The boy answered.

"That's true, child." Again he clapped his hand excitedly. "And can you explain it closer?"

Well, as a pure blood, coming from an ancient wizarding family, of course Mr. Malfoy would know about the family holiday.

"Well, it's the one day during the year at which parents and children and siblings will be together." Mr. Malfoy started to explain. "There will be breakfast to honour the future family members that are not born yet, then there will be lunch to honour those family members that are not present, like aunts and uncles as they would celebrate the holiday with their own family, and then there will be dinner to honour those family members that are dead already. And during dinner each family member can do a charm that will be good for the family. Even the smallest children can do it, as it is a special day and the dead that are watching over the living will help them casting the charm. On this day only the dead are able to interfere into the lives of the living to grand the children's wishes – if they are reasonable and in benefit for the entire family. That means, a child could not wish for a new broom, for example. But it can wish for …" He looked over at Harry. "… for comfort, for warmth, or for safety."

"Exactly, exactly, Mr. Malfoy." Filius called out, clapping his hands again and he barely resisted the urge to jump from his chair in his excitement. "Why is it that the dead only on this day can interfere with the living? As it is not Halloween where the veil between the dead and the living is so thin that both worlds mix?"

The students looked at him, expectantly, and with a happy smile on his face he transfigured the chairs they sat on into cushions, startling some of them in the act, causing them to fall onto their backsides, but then they were seated more comfortably and he started to explain.

"As it is Halloween soon, I think, I can start from there." He said, sitting on his own cushion. "The name is derived from old Irish, and roughly translated means 'summer's end'. The word 'Halloween' itself had been heard for the first time around 1114.

Muggles say it came up in the 16th century, but it had been there before. Some muggles also believe that it was related to the festival of Samhain that celebrated the end of the 'lighter half' of the year and the beginning of the 'darker half'. They actually thought that it was something like the 'Celtic New Year'.

Those of them who believe in this, don't know how close they actually are, as in fact Samhain was a festivity to take stock of food supplies, to slaughter livestock for winter stores and to collect firewood. Simply to prepare for the cold and harsh winter months. Something like Thanksgiving.

On this day people were expected to have done most of their work, to have collected enough fire wood and to have stocked their stores to survive a hard and long winter, and so they celebrated this day. They lit bonfires, in which the bones of the slaughtered livestock were cast into its flames, and each home lit their hearth from them while all other fires were doused."

Never before had he had so eager faces watching him, hanging on his lips, and they actually were quiet, listening intently to his words, the muggle born students as well as the pure bloods, and he smiled happily.

"The ancient Celts believed that the border between this world and the 'otherworld' as they called it, became thin on Samhain, allowing the spirits to pass through. The family's ancestors were honoured and invited home. They believed that the spirits of the dead could pass because of the bonfires that were holy fires, lit for the dead, lit for the dying and lit for those who would not survive the winter, and because of the magic that was used during this night to ward the harmful spirits. And here the first wards came up.

On later years, when muggles began to celebrate this holiday too, just not under the name Samhain but Halloween, they believed it would be enough to ward off the harmful spirits by wearing costumes and masks. They disguised themselves as harmful spirit to keep the real ones away.

It is interesting how muggles could hunt witches and how they could kill them, burn them, burn books in their ignorance, while at the same time they dressed like ghosts, witches, skeletons, vampires, demons and other magical persons or creatures.

Around 1600 when the muggles came up with Halloween they used it for the term All Hallows Eve, the night before All Hallows Day, the feast of all saints, and only under this name the feast had been allowed by the church. The term Samhain had been banned."

He smiled when he noticed that some of the children now were laying on the floor, resting their elbows on the cushions, or resting their heads on their cushions, and taking a look at Harry laying beside him, he noticed that the boy had his eyes closed. He however knew that he wasn't asleep, as a muscle in his face was twitching every now and then, as if he wanted to smile, or as if starting to lift an eyebrow – like Severus, he thought – before remembering that he should keep his face an indifferent mask and he wondered if it simply run in the family or if there were deeper reasons behind.

"For the wizarding families however, there is one other day, that is very more important since 1114. In the earliest days it had been called 'gens dies solis', and it always is celebrated on fourteenth of November. Remember, that in the old days a holy day always had been called Sunday, even if it had not been one. However, then the name had changed into 'family holy day' so the muggle churches would not ban it like it had been with Samhain, and today it simply is called family holiday, but it really is more than just that.

Remember that the term 'Halloween' had come up in the year 1114, and remember that the 'gens dies solis' is celebrated since 1114 and on November, 14th, and then you will see that the number 11 and 14 has a reason. With time, the wizarding society noticed that lesser and lesser spirits visited the living on Samhain each year and the reason simply had been because the spirits did not wish to accept the muggles' behaviour concerning Halloween. They were not frightened of course by the muggles dressing in costumes and wearing masks, but they refused to make up with their antics. They felt dishonoured.

And so the wizarding community in secret invented the 'gens dies solis' to give their relatives a new day to feel honoured and to give them peace in meeting their living relations. We do not lit bonfires anymore, to avoid the muggles noticing, but we still prepare food and celebrate our stockings for the winter. During breakfast we honour the future family members that are not born yet, as Mr. Malfoy explained. During lunch we honour those family members like aunts and uncles, that are not present because of their own celebrating, and during dinner we honour those family member that are already dead. This is the most important point of the holy day, as neither those family members that are not born yet, nor those that are living aunts and uncles can grant wishes that are beyond their abilities. The dead however can meet with their living families that honour them and if they are pleased, then all the living family can make a wish, a wish not related to material things.

Where some half bloods and muggle born nowadays believe that on Halloween wards would be placed to keep off bad spirits, there in fact the 'gens dies solis' just as Samhain had been, is the day where the family wards were strengthened to ensure the family's safety throughout the year."

"So it is a replacement for Samhain?" Mr. Weasley asked, not having heard of it before and for a moment Filius wondered why Arthur Weasley wouldn't celebrate this day with his family properly and with all the stories and all the explanations. The Weasleys came from an ancient pure blood family after all.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Professor Flitwick had brought them down into the defence corridor. He had said that he had doings there anyway, but Harry was sure that he only had said so, that he could bring them down, and he was sure that the professor only had brought them down because of him, Harry.

Well, he didn't mind, as it had been a really great class. He always had liked the small and always laughing teacher, wondering why he looked as if there would not only flow human blood through his veins, and today's class with the man had been very, very, _very_ great. He had felt safe, he had felt well cared for, he had felt eager, and he had learned something really interesting. And laying on the cushion, listening to the tiny man's high voice that was so contraire to Professor Snape's deep and velvet voice, he had felt comfortable, even with all the other students around him in a too close proximity.

The charms professor had explained them the different charms that family members, even the smallest children, could cast on this evening, and he had explained _how _a small child could cast it in the first place – assumed that the visiting spirits granted them.

But now however they were sitting in the defence classroom, since ten minutes only, and he already had a headache.

He wasn't sure if it was a normal headache, it didn't feel like anything he ever had experienced before, and Professor Quirrel looked over at him strangely. The man actually had told him that he would have to take remedial defence twice a week to make up for the weeks he'd had missed, and he never called him 'Mr. Snape' like the other teachers did, but 'Potter'.

And he also noticed that the man – even if normally stuttering when talking – he didn't do so whenever he spoke with _him_.

Maybe because he didn't want to offend him for his own stuttering, even if he wondered where professor Quirrel might know from as he had not said anything so far. Maybe the man just had heard from Professor Snape or Professor McGonagall, or from Professor Flitwick. Maybe Professor Quirrel was so angry at him for missing so much lessons, that he didn't allow himself to show this weakness. Or maybe the man … well … he didn't know.

He however wondered how the man was able to control his stuttering, as he, Harry, could not.

"A-all of y-you should have l-earned to p-produce a s-simply shield charm b-by now. T-take a p-partner." Professor Quirrel said and then turned towards him. "And as you are an odd number, you will pair up with me, Potter."

There it had been again, the professor stopping stuttering the moment he addressed him, Harry, and the professor calling him Potter. He hadn't time however to think about it, while another thought startled him and made him shudder. The man wanted him to pair up with him. He wanted him to …

But he never had learned how to cast a shield charm.

Of course Professor Snape had taught him the incantations of different shield charms, and of course he knew how they worked, Professor Snape had explained it all to him, in theory. But he never actually had incanted one. He never actually had used one, in praxis. He was behind the others for weeks, concerning practice, and he had no idea how to do it, how to speak the incantation, how to use mind magic, speechless magic, how to … how … how to … to … he …

The first stinging hex hit him moments later, a weak one, he could tell, it only stung for a moment, and only a bit, but it was enough to get him worried. What if it got worse and he couldn't block any of the spells? Couldn't cast a shield? What if …

The next stinging hex hit him, getting him out of his thoughts and as he had feared, it was worse than the first one.

But still he had no idea how to cast the shield charm.

Theodore and Draco had paired up together, and they cast worried glances over at Harry and their defence professor from time to time, but nothing had happened up to now aside from the fact that Harry couldn't block the professor's stinging hexes. Yet, as Harry never even winced, they were harmless. So they just kept practicing and watching.

"It's strange." Draco whispered to Theodore who looked at him questioningly, as if to ask what he was referring to. "Did you notice that Quirrel stops stuttering when he speaks with Harry?"

Theodore nodded his head and threw a jelly-leg curse at Draco who blocked it and at the same time sent it back towards Theodore – who was caught off guard and was too slow with his own shield charm. His knees gave way and he landed on his knees and hands.

"You're right." He whispered back while he got up and threw a tickling charm at the same time, startling Draco who hadn't expected such a quick response and he bent over, gritting his teeth to avoid laughing out loud. "Have you noticed the gazes he throws at Harry?" He then asked, lifting his charm.

"I have." Draco answered the moment he had caught his breath and then threw a stinging hex which Theodore blocked in time. "What is the reason I watch Quirrel so close."

"Yes." Theodore answered, throwing a body bind at Draco. "But he only throws mild stinging hexes at Harry."

Draco sidestepped this one.

"That is, what wonders me." He answered. "I thought he would hex him …"

A startled cry came from behind him and turning he saw Longbottom hitting the ground, stiff as a board and he snickered. Leave it to Longbottom to get hit by a stray hex, he thought.

Harry meanwhile really had troubles to keep from crying out loud with each stinging hex that met him and he was close to hide behind a desk, or to cover into a corner, to roll up into a small ball, or better, to hide in the cupboard that stood at the wall beside the entrance door.

Not only had his headache gotten worse and worse with each hex professor Quirrel threw at him, but the stinging hexes too had gotten worse by each time. And still he had no clue how he could say the incantation for a shield charm, nor how he could use speechless magic to cast one.

He wouldn't have been able to even cast one by now with his wand only, he was sure, as his hands shook with the pain that soared through his body and he wasn't sure if he would be able to hold back a scream any longer. He had to bite his lower lip since an eternity now as it seemed to him, but he knew that it only had been minutes.

He didn't understand why the professor did this, and he didn't understand why the professor was so strange towards him. He could feel the …

With Professor Snape, he had felt the hate towards him during the welcoming feast and he still remembered this feeling. With his relatives he had felt their hate and their fear towards him for years and he knew this feeling well enough by now. But what he felt coming from professor Quirrel, it was beyond hate. He actually could feel the professor's wish to murder. He didn't know why, and he wasn't even sure if it was limited towards only him, but he was sure that this was, what the man was ready for, and it made him not only fighting the pain but the fear as well.

The next stinging hex hit him in his chest and this time he bit his lower lip so hard he could taste blood while at the same time his knees gave way and he landed on the floor, on his knees and hands, closing his eyes with pain while at the same time all his instincts screamed at him to open them so he would be able to see what the professor would do next.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Filius went by the dungeons on his way to the great hall. Not that the dungeons would lay on his way from the defence corridor to the great hall. In fact, he had to cross the entrance hall and instead of entering the double winged oak doors of the entrance hall, he would have to take a turn to the stairs that would lead into the corridor that led to other stairs that led to the dungeons.

There simply was just one way to reach the dungeons, and that was by crossing the entrance hall.

It would be great if the dungeons had more entrances so one could leave – or enter – them from the charms corridor, or from the defence corridor, or from the transfiguration corridor. But that simply wasn't the case. Maybe Salazar Slytherin had been a bit paranoid, he didn't know. Maybe it was because potions were taught in the dungeons and it was easier to ward one corridor only in case of an emergency instead of four or five different corridors. But on the other hand – why not installing emergency exits? He didn't know, and so he climbed down the – for his small size – too large stairs.

He knocked at Severus' office, a bit out of breath, and he hoped that the Potions Master wasn't too busy. He would like to sit down a few minutes to catch his breath, knowing that he would have to climb all the stairs back to the entrance hall.

He didn't have to wonder why Severus was as fit as he was. The man had to climb all those stairs three times a day at least.

There wasn't an "enter" called from inside the office, but the door opened from within and Severus stood on the other side, greeting him without a word and somehow he was sure that the Potions Master had known that it had been him knocking at his door.

Well, he didn't have to wonder why Severus was a spy either, as it seemed.

The man simply stood aside and invited him inside. He silently closed the door before he greeted him verbally.

"I won't keep you long, Severus." He then said. "I just came down to inform you that Harry is safe in defence. I brought the entire class over to Quirinius. But I really wonder how you do this, Severus!"

"What are you referring to?"

"Well, all those stairs!" He said. "And thinking that I will have to climb them again!"

The Potions Master looked at him, with a raised eyebrow and for a moment he thought he saw a smirk on the man's face.

"You do know, Filius, that down this very corridor, opposite the abandoned frame of Carl Cameron, there is a hidden door that leads into the charms corridor, near your very classroom?"

He blinked at the man that was sitting in front of him, that was looking at him calmly, and he blinked a few times more before he groaned.

"And you … and you never bothered telling me this, Severus?" He gasped.

"You never bothered to ask." The Potions Master smirked, shrugging his shoulders and he was sure he could see an evil glimmer in those black eyes.

"I knew you are evil!" Filius growled, startled realizing that he sounded strangely like the Potions Master. Well, maybe he had been too often in the man's company lately.

"I never said I was not." Severus answered, still with a smirk on his face. "But I am sure I have something strong enough that will relax your overstrained muscles from your travel down here."

"I would so much appreciate this gesture, Severus."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Gasping for breath Harry more felt than saw professor Quirrel casting the next stinging hex at him and he was sure he wouldn't survive this one.

It was different from his uncle's beatings. Not concerning the pain, but concerning his own knowledge.

With his uncle's beatings he always had known he would survive them, he always had known that it would stop the moment he passed out. He soon enough had learned this.

But with those hexes, he didn't know. He didn't know anything about them. He didn't know how much of this he could take. He didn't know if they could kill him.

And he didn't know anything about the man either. He didn't know if this man really would stop if he passed out.

Instinctively he closed his eyes and covered himself into a small ball, trying to protect himself as good as possible, while at the same time he was sure that he would die this time. Well, maybe not, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to stay silent this time.

But he knew that this wasn't what could happen.

It simply couldn't happen.

It only would get worse if this happened.

Uncle Vernon always had beaten him more when he screamed.

Without thinking he cast a shield. He didn't use his wand, he didn't even think of using an incantation, he simply did it, and it worked.

A loud crash caused him to look up and he saw the professor laying at the opposite wall in a heap - unconsciously. He didn't understand what just had happened, he only was glad that it was over and he breathed a sigh of relief, his entire body relaxing for a moment, before he recognized _what exactly had_ happened. And then he immediately tensed up and he knew that this was his last day living. Professor Quirrel would kill him the moment he woke up and he only could hope that Professor Snape would allow him to visit on the family holy day. It was only about six or seven weeks until the family holy day. And so … well …

The next moment he felt a hand on his shoulder while at the same time someone spoke to him, but neither did he recognize the voice, nor did he even care. He felt absolutely numb, unable to move, and unable to think. He would be dead soon anyway.

He felt weak and tired and exhausted and he hurt all over his body, but soon he would be dead and then it wouldn't matter anymore.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Filius had left just a few minutes ago, still chuckling, and he wondered if he really should give that man any sorts of alcohol again. Well, surely not from his Ogden's Finest. Maybe rather a mug of mead next time. Considering the fact that Filius had had not more than half a tumbler of the whiskey, he sighed. No, better not even a mug of mead.

He was about to have a look at some potions he had brewing at the moment and turned to went over to his laboratory. It was nothing that would demand his immediate presence or his concentration, he just wanted to have a short check before going to the defence classroom to get Harry and to go with him to the great hall for lunch. Concerning how the boy fared he would allow him history of magic this afternoon before taking him home.

Before he however could leave his office, the fire flared and he turned, an angry scowl on his face that went into a worried scowl momentarily over seeing Draco's head sitting in the fireplace, before he schooled his face into a calm mask.

"What is the meaning of this, Mr. Malfoy?" He asked, his eyebrow lifted at the boy. He knew that Draco would use the floo during a lesson to contact him only in an emergency.

"It's Harry." The blond boy said and immediately Severus took his floo powder from the mantle.

"Move aside." He ordered and without hesitation he threw the powder into the flames and stepped inside the moment they went green.

"Defence classroom." He called out his destination and a moment later he stepped out of the fireplace in Quirrel's classroom.

He took in the situation at once, Quirrel laying in a heap at the wall near his desk, unconscious, Harry covering in the corner beside the cupboard near the door, Draco and Theodore beside him while the rest of his Slytherins formed a line between those three and the Gryffindors that were shouting questions, comments he neither understood nor cared about right now, keeping them from coming closer.

"Class dismissed!" He growled threateningly, while he didn't allow himself to panic. "Now!" He added when no one moved at first and immediately the imbeciles came to life.

He couldn't imagine what exactly might have happened, but he could feel the magic pulsing through the air while at the same time he recognized his son's magical signature. What he however recognized too, and what had him worried just the more, was that the magic he could feel was elementary magic and at the same time he worried about what might have happened that had caused his son using elementary magic.

He knew that something was strange with what exactly he felt, but he couldn't name it right now and he didn't care right now either. Right now he had to ensure that Harry was well.

Kneeling at the boy's side he touched his shoulder and called his name, without gaining Harry's attention at all. The child seemed to be frozen - out of fear.

Well, it wasn't the first time after all and crouching down in front of his son he at the same time drew his wand to cast a diagnostic charm. He was startled at the amount of magic he detected on the child and he cast another, more specific diagnostic spell that detected an unbelievable amount of incredibly strong stinging hexes.

"You may leave now." He said to Draco and Theodore, the only two that had remained behind, close to Harry. "We will talk about this later."

Both boys nodded and then left them, left the room, quietly closing the door behind them.

He knew immediately that it would be useless to try and get the boy out of his daze right now and so he simply took both of the child's shoulders into a strong grip and pulled his son close enough so he could lift him into his arms and sitting him onto his hip he enfolded his arms around the small frame and carried his son to the floo. Tightening his left arm around the child he took floo powder from the mantle with his right and threw it into the fire, calling out "infirmary" while stepping into the green flames and then vanishing with his son pressed securely to his body.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"And what with Quirinius now?" Poppy asked after Harry finally was settled, sleeping peacefully.

"I do not care about Quirrel right now, Poppy!" Severus growled darkly, just the moment Minerva and Filius entered the hospital wing. The headmistress at first and Filius following her.

"What's the meaning of this?" The woman asked. "I have met Mr. Weasley on the way to Filius' office and he told me you had dismissed the defence class, Severus! And then upon reaching Quirinius' class we found the classroom warded!"

"Neither do I know what exactly happened during defence, nor do I care!" Severus hissed at the headmistress, turning back to Poppy. "I want to have some answers, Poppy, and I want them now! Will his magical core recover?"

"His magical core?" Minerva gasped. "Whose? Quirinius'?"

"Of course no, you daft woman!" Severus growled darkly.

"Severus!" Poppy shouted. "That will be enough! The boy will recover. He will be a bit more tired throughout the next few days, and he will have to take it light for a few days, but he will recover. I will keep him here overnight and …"

"Surely not, Poppy!" Severus hissed back. "I will take my son home!"

"I need him here, Severus." Poppy said. "The stinging hexes themselves had not done real damage, but they had him exhausted and weak. His magical outburst however is another thing, Severus. I need him here to watch his core and …"

"I won't leave my son here, Poppy, to wake up in a strange environment." Severus hissed. He wouldn't back away. "I can watch him as well as can you and …"

"Severus, take reason!" Poppy shook her head. "A wizard's core is nothing to mess around with, and one mistake, or reacting too slow, could destroy it completely in that state. I …"

"Then you might watch him in his room, but …" A soft touch on his arm cut off his angry flow of words.

"You do know, Severus, that as Harry's father, you can stay here throughout the night?" It was Filius who had placed his hand on his arm, and it strangely calmed him. With a sigh he nodded. Filius was right. As was Poppy, and he knew it. He only wondered how the man had gotten sober so quickly. Not even two hours earlier he hadn't been able to walk more than three steps in a straight line.

"Very well, Poppy." He said. "But I demand a place in a corner for a bit more privacy and I demand to stay here with him."

"Have I ever sent you out, Severus?" Poppy asked with a sigh and slowly but surely Severus understood that he had acted unreasonable. He had been more than just worried and giving a sigh he turned towards the bed his son lay in.

And so he ended up, sitting in the infirmary beside a bed that seemed too large for the small boy laying inside, remembering a time, weeks ago, remembering the same small boy laying in the same bed while he had been sitting at the same chair beside the bed. Back then he had not been sure why he had been sitting there, back then he had been thinking of the boy as a Potter. Back then it had been nothing else but his duty, nothing else than – not exactly pity, he never pitied the abused children – but something akin to worry, maybe something between worry and pity. He didn't know.

But today he was sitting here with the knowledge that the boy was his son.

And his son had been attacked by Quirrel.

Upon their diagnostic spells he soon had recognized that the intensity of the stinging hexes that had been thrown at Harry, had been too intense for coming from a first year. And so there had been no doubts that Quirrel had thrown them at the boy. At first he had tried to tell himself that it had been a stray spell, an accident, but soon he had known that there had been too many of those intense stinging hexes for simply being accidental. And _that_ – left only one thought left. It had been an attack, whatever reason for.

It was a wonder that Draco and Theodore had noticed nothing, but considering his son's ability to hide pain and to control himself, he really shouldn't wonder. He himself had not noticed the signs of abuse, back in the first days of the term, after the boy had been sorted in his house.

And then Harry seemed to have had an outburst of accidental magic.

But Merlin – the _kind _of magic he had used! He still shuddered at the thought.

He had noticed the traces of elementary magic. And it had been neither fire nor water. That had been what had him feeling that something had been amiss, that something had been strange. He hadn't noticed back then, but he noticed now.

Both could have been a disaster too, he knew, especially if he had used fire, but the magic the boy actually _had _used, he could have evoked a hurricane within the defence classroom.

Something akin to pride swelled in his chest at the thought of the shield the boy seemingly had created, a shield using the forces of the element air, and so strong, it had blasted Quirrel at the opposite wall, leaving him there unconscious. In fact the idiot was still unconscious.

He had warded the classroom the moment he had left with Harry through the floo, and he had been loath to leave the infirmary - and that for his son - later to undo the wards, so he simply had told Minerva to undo them, what the woman had. And she had brought the man floating behind her into the hospital wing.

He, Severus, immediately had warded the bed Quirrel had been placed at. Poppy still could reach the man, but Quirrel himself wouldn't be able to leave his bed. He still didn't know what was wrong with the man, he only knew that he never had trusted him, and he surely wouldn't risk anything with his son.

He already had told Minerva that he would take Harry from defence. He would teach him in the subject himself. He wouldn't allow Quirrel to be near the boy again, that much was for sure.

The torches attached to the walls around them dimmed while a candle placed on Harry's and Quirrel's nightstand each lit itself and he knew that it must be eight o'clock in the evening.

As the Potions Master he was, he had been the one who had invented the potion that was added to the wax that was used for candles by wizards. It had been the one he had invented for his Potions Master exams. He simply had thought it might be useful if candles lit up at a specific time or if they extinguished at a specific time. And now the entire wizarding world used said potion to create their candles. It even was used with torches.

No one knew about the potion being invented by him, but he didn't care about it. There had been other potions invented by him and used within the entire world and no one knew that they had been invented by him. He didn't care.

He never had cared because he never had allowed himself to actually care about anything that was not related to his duty as head of Slytherin. He had cared about his snakes and their well being, but about nothing else. Now however, he didn't care because he had other things that were more important to him than remembering a potion he had invented and wondering if anyone of its users knew it was invented by him.

He remembered this morning, Harry sitting at the Slytherin table for breakfast, more at ease than he had yesterday, excited about classes. He remembered Filius telling him how the boy had been laying with his head on the pillow in charms, listening to the story the tiny man had told them. He remembered yesterday evening, Harry excitedly telling him about transfiguration while he himself knew that the boy never before had had someone to whom he could have told anything about his day. He remembered all those occasions the boy had been in his arms and the way it had felt like. And he realized, it was a little miracle, he, Severus Snape, having this boy as his son. He, Severus Snape, being loved by this boy. It was a miracle and he ...

A small whimper coming from the bed beside him got him out of his thoughts and he simply got off his chair. He settled onto the bed and simply took his son into his arms, arranged the comforter around them and within minutes not only was his son sleeping peacefully again, but he himself fell into a slight slumber, his son in his arms and he was quite content.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was Saturday evening and the boy was expected to be in the library.

But he wasn't.

He had allowed him a short visit in the library with Draco, Theodore and Blaze to search for a book about Halloween. Well, after Filius' latest class in charms all of his Slytherin first years had been rather interested in this holiday and in the family holy day. So he had allowed them to the library, knowing that he couldn't keep the boy in his quarters forever. A short visit in the library wouldn't harm the boy. He had reminded all of them that they shouldn't do magic with Harry around and that said boy especially was not to perform any sorts of magic by himself.

All of his Slytherins got a small pouch of floo powder from him at the beginning of each school year to reach him in an emergency, and he trusted them to use it responsible. Draco had contacted him yesterday using the floo powder he had given him. After all, each classroom, the great hall and the library held fireplaces that were connected to Hogwarts intern floo network.

He always had wondered why none of the other heads of houses did the same, giving their students a small amount of floo powder encase of an emergency. They wouldn't be able to get lost using Hogwarts floo network as only the headmaster's – or now the headmistress' floo – and the private fireplaces of the heads of houses led outside the castle, and even those were warded.

However, he had allowed Harry together with the other four first years to visit the Library. And now he simply had worried about them – no, he of course did not about Harry in particular, he of course _always _worried about his students being in the library of all places, that it was he told himself, the library was a dangerous place after all – and so he had stopped his grading and went over to the library.

But Harry wasn't there, and neither were Draco, Theodore and Blaze.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_pranks, a party and detention  
_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would be grateful if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …

**M****eanwhile at Hogwarts – dungeons – Severus Snape's quarters:**

_**Harry**: Uhm … Severus?_

_**Severus**: What is it now, Potter?_

_**Harry**: Potter I am now? *looks angry*_

_**Severus**: Stop acting like a child._

_**Harry**: I AM a child … however …_

_**Severus**: Yes?_

_**Harry**: Well … you see … look at krümel …_

_**Severus**: What is it with her this time?_

_**Harry**: I think – she died …_

_**Severus**: What makes you think so?_

_**Harry**: Well, she's laying there, and she doesn't move. Do you think I should nudge her?_

_**Severus**: *lifts an eyebrow* If you touch her and catch something, I won't heal you …_

_**Harry**: *swallows thickly* You … you … you don't think she … has something?_

_**Severus**: *rolls his eyes* Of course not. Most probably she just is shocked – yet again …_

_**Harry**: But … why? Again because of the small number over there?_

_**Severus**: You didn't notice that it is four-digit meanwhile?_

_**Harry**: *looks closer* Oh, indeed … it is … so … she is overexcited again?_

_**Severus**: Indeed!_

_**Severus**: Even if I don't understand it.  
_

_**Harry**: Why not?_

_**Severus**: __She had known how close to 1000 reviews she had been at the last few chapters. Surely she had known it might happen at one point._

_**Harry**: What do we do now?_

_**Severus**: Take a bucket with cold water … that will help …_

_**Harry**: Uhm … you really think I should do … THAT ?_

_**Severus**: *smirks* Of course …_


	47. a party, a conversation and a howler

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added author's note:**

I know that I promised you a prank in this chapter, but well – I guess I got carried away again and so I have to apologize but the prank simply will have to wait until the next chapter …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_However, he had allowed Harry together with the other four first years to visit the Library. And now he simply had worried about them – no, not about Harry in particular, he always worried about his students being in the library, he told himself – and so he had stopped his grading and went over to the library. _

_But Harry wasn't there, and neither were Draco, Theodore and Blaze._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter forty-seven**

**A party, a conversation and a howler**

**Flashback**

_"Malfoy?" Dursley asked, hesitantly, watching him warily, and he lifted his eyebrow at the other boy, wondering what he wanted. Dursley never before had addressed him in any way. They'd had a few not to friendly words at the beginning when the other boy had come to Hogwarts and they had found out what the Dursleys had done to Harry._

_Well, they of course had not found out, not completely at least, but they had found out that Harry had been abused and starved by the Dursleys, and honestly, that had been enough to stay away from the youngest Dursley. At least since the boy definitely had thought that they had been right to do so. _

_But recently – well, Dursley had changed._

_Not only visibly, as he had lost weight since the past weeks and wasn't the fat whale anymore, but concerning his behavior too. Dursley first had become silent, very silent, often been seen staring into space and he only could guess that the boy had been thinking. Then he actually had started studying. He still had been silent, but studying and later on, during the past few days, he again had started thinking._

_And now he was standing in the doorway, keeping him from leaving to go to the infirmary and having a look at Harry._

_"What do you want, Dursley?" He asked, turning slowly._

_The other boy stood in the middle of the Slytherin common room, unsurely, his hands fidgeting with the cloak he was wearing._

_That was another thing that had changed. In the beginning Dursley had refused to wear the school uniform. Not that he had been forced to, he was a muggle after all, but he would have been allowed to. But he hadn't. He always had worn Jeans and T-Shirts or pullovers. Now however … well, a few weeks ago he had started to wear the usual black trousers and he had started to wear the shirts with the Slytherin crest, as well as the tie with the colors of their house. And since a few days he actually was wearing the cloak that belonged to the school uniform in addition. _

_"Well …" The boy started, looking everywhere but him. "You see … I … I have heard that Harry was hurt, during defence. And I just wanted … I wanted to ask if he is ok."_

_"Why would you bother, Dursley?" Draco asked, folding his arms in front of his chest, a habit that he surely had adopted from Professor Snape. _

_"Listen, Malfoy." The other boy sighed. "I know that I have made a mistake. I only did what my father taught me. I won't say that it hadn't been my fault, but I … well … I knew that it was wrong, but I knew that my father expected it of me. And … I never saw that being a wizard would be something that was normal. I never knew that there were so many wizards, that they … that you, all of you, had parents and families and siblings … that you would go to a school like we … muggles. I had learned that being like Harry meant being a freak. I didn't know …"_

_"And that gave you the right to hurt another human being." Draco said, his voice bitter._

_"No." Dursley answered. "But … listen, I know that I was wrong. I have learned a lot of things here and I know that my parents have been wrong. I … I'm sorry."_

_"You should not say so to me, but to Harry." Draco said._

_"Professor Snape has forbidden it." Dursley said, actually sounding miserable. "He has forbidden any contact with Harry and he has forbidden me to apologize until he would say otherwise."_

_"Well, if Professor Snape has forbidden it, then you should accept it." Draco said, his voice still angry. "If Professor Snape orders something, then you have to obey as have we."_

_"I know." Dursley sighed. "That was not what I wanted though."_

_"Then what is it you wanted?" Draco asked, getting impatient. Harry had been brought to the infirmary earlier that day and he wanted to see him now. _

_"I just wanted to ask you if you knew if he is ok." Dursley said. "And I wanted … well … I just wanted to say that … if he is ok … I mean … he never has had a party, you know?"_

_"No, I didn't know." Draco growled. "But from all I actually do know, I thought as much. Why would you tell me this anyway?"_

_"I just thought … I mean … if you planned one, for him, I mean, because he is back at classes … I would promise … I promise that I won't leave the dormitory. He won't have to meet me, I mean. I would like to, and I would like to apologize, but I know that … well … I just thought …"_

_Nodding wordlessly at the other boy, Draco turned and finally left the common room, wondering why Dursley acted so strangely, but the idea of a 'welcome to classes party' becoming more and more shaped in his mind._

**End flashback**

And now here he was. He didn't know if he had done the right thing, but it somehow felt right.

Dursley had told him that Harry never had had a party. And Harry had been back at classes only since Thursday. It had been his first week, his first two days at classes. It was a reason to have a party, wasn't it? And Harry surely would like it.

Well, they hadn't had much time to plan it, but he was sure that they had thought of everything. Theo had brought the drinks, butterbeer and pumpkin juice. Blaze had brought Bertie Bott's Beans and chocolate frogs. And he had brought pumpkin cake. Dursley was in their dormitory and he had promised to not come out. Some of the fifth years had promised that they would have an eye on their dormitory door in case Harry decided – whatever reason for – to enter. And last but not least, the prefects were on a meeting with the other prefects and the head boy and girl.

Well, and now they went back to the common room, Harry between them, ready to have a small party. Nothing big and nothing that would take the entire night – they all knew that Harry wouldn't be able to manage _that – _But a short, little party.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry didn't know what to make out of this, and honestly, he wanted nothing more than to just go back to the Professor's quarters, to his room, and into his bed where he would lay down and pull the covers over his head to never ever again come forth.

They had been in the library to get a book on the family holy day Professor Flitwick had explained about yesterday during charms and now they were on their way back to the dungeons, but not the way they had come up here. And he had promised Professor Snape that he would be back soon. He doubted that the Professor would be pleased if they were disobeying, they would get into really serious trouble.

Well, he knew that this was the way to the Slytherin common room and that they were close. Draco had told him that he had forgotten something from the common room, but he knew that this was not completely true. They all, Draco, Theodore and Blaze, all three were just too secretive and he could feel fear creeping up his spine, making the hair on his neck standing.

He knew that they wouldn't hurt him, but he didn't know what they had planned and he simply was afraid. If he only knew, if he only could prepare. If he only …

Draco said the password and the portrait swung open, revealing the Slytherin common room and Harry took a step backwards.

He had been in the great hall for breakfast, yesterday and the day before yesterday. And he had been in classes, yesterday and the day before yesterday. Yes. But he wasn't ready to step into the crowded common room just yet. He simply wasn't ready. All the curious faces and all the questions that surely would start and …

And Dudley …

Gripping the collar of his shirt he tried to calm his racing heartbeat and he tried to keep the shirt that seemed to choke him away from his throat, tried to get enough air into his lungs without hyperventilating. Professor Snape had taught him how to do so … he had … and … but he wasn't …

"Dursley isn't there." Draco quietly said, just as if he had read his thoughts and he looked over at the blond boy that had become … that had become what? A fellow student? His dorm mate? His house mate? His friend? His year mate? His what?

He didn't know the answer.

He would like having Draco as a friend. But he didn't know if he could trust the other boy enough for such a thing as friendship. And then there was Dudley. He would destroy it as soon as he had noticed that he, Harry, had a friend, he was sure of that. Dudley would not … but Dudley was not there, was he? Draco had said he wasn't.

"He's in the dorm, and he won't come down." Draco again said and hesitantly he took a step towards the common room. If only the Professor were there. He took another step. He was sure that he would be able to deal with this here better if just the Professor were there. A third step had him nearly _in _the common room and he could feel the tension, could feel the tension causing his hair on his neck to stand again. If only his father were here. He was close to turning and running back, away from the crowd and …

"Welcome back to classes, Harry!" A chorus of voices exploded the moment he had stepped into the room completely and he looked over at the room, noticing the banner with the words 'welcome back to classes party' and looking over the students he noticed them gazing at him expectantly.

But he didn't know _what_ was expected of him.

He didn't know what _all of them_ expected of him.

He didn't know …

He didn't know what _to do_ in a party…

He knew what to do to _prepare_ a party, he often enough had done so for Dudley's birthday parties. But Dudley wasn't here, Draco had said so. But he didn't know what to do _in_ a party. He never before had had one, one for Harry …

And it was already too late to prepare the party anyway, wasn't it?

He would have to bake the cake – but aunt Petunia had already done so, the cake was on the table in the middle of the room and a candle burnt on it, even if he didn't understand why there was only one candle. As it seemed, he had made a mistake, Dudley was twelve now if this was his birthday, and then he should have placed twelve candles on the cake. But there was only one and uncle Vernon would …

And it was the wrong cake anyway! Aunt Petunia never would have allowed him baking a _pumpkin _cake. On Dudley's birthdays there was needed a three layer cake with chocolate cream and bananas and flan between, and with chocolate sprinkles atop. But how was he supposed to make a cake in such a short time now? Dudley surely would be here at any moment … and then …

Aunt Petunia would skin him alive!

He had to go … he had to run … maybe if he made it into his cupboard in time, then he … maybe he would be able to lock he door so uncle Vernon wouldn't be able to … maybe he could add more candles on the cake quickly, before aunt Petunia noticed … maybe he …

Taking a step backwards he bumped into something solid and flinching he turned to his right to pass the solid presence behind him, just the moment a warm and firm hand settled on his shoulder and kept him in place.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Dudley Dursley was sitting on his bed in the dormitory, his mind racing like mad.

He listened to the voices downstairs, trying to figure out if Harry had arrived yet or not and if the jeering and the chorus of "welcome to classes, Harry" was any indication, then his cousin had entered the common room just right now. He would have liked to see his cousin's face at having his first party ever and for a moment he really considered to ignore Snape's warning and to go downstairs, to approach his cousin to apologize.

It was true, he still felt strange, and he still was kind of angry at the professor for getting him out of his home, of his former live with his mum and dad. But on the other hand, he had everything he needed here, just as he had had at home.

And honestly, he _had _lost weight. It hadn't been easy, but he had managed. It had been difficult at first, not to have as much to eat as he wanted to. But he had gotten used to it and now he actually had lost weight and he actually could move more easily without panting.

And well, professor Snape surely didn't cuddle him as his parents always had done, yes, but professor Snape always had been there if he wanted to talk to him. Not that it had been often in the beginning, but the past two or three weeks he had visited the man even outside of their weekly appointments and it had been – well, it had been ok.

Professor Snape was the strangest teacher he ever had met, not only because of his black and buttoned-up-to-his-chin clothing, his long hair and the black eyes, but because of the entire man being so reserved and indifferent. The man was strict and his words often sent a shiver down his spine, but he had been able to talk with Snape about things he never would have been able to talk about with his parents. It was all new and strange to him, but it wasn't that bad, he had to admit.

The professor actually tried, not only with his, Dudley's, learning, but with him himself.

He had feared that professor Snape would handle _him_ as his father had handled _Harry_, especially since the man had adopted his cousin, that he wouldn't get food, that he would be ridiculed all the time and that he would be beaten and locked away. But the man hadn't. The man had talked to him a lot and he had explained a lot of things to him, and only recently had he learned that his parents, both of them, had done not only wrong but really hurt Harry a lot.

And considering Harry's appearance, after he had seen him during potions on Thursday, he suddenly knew that Snape had been right. It hadn't been right what he had done to him. Nor what his parents had done to him. Damn, Harry still looked like shit, even after – how long? Six weeks? Seven weeks?

So yes – for a moment he was tempted to ignore Snape's warning and go down to his cousin, just to apologize and just to hear Harry saying that it would be ok. But he knew that he would be in really great trouble if he did so now. Snape would have his hide, he would skin him alive and use him as potions ingredients.

So he kept sitting there on his bed and just took out a book he had borrowed from the library.

He once had asked Snape, a few weeks ago, why he had taken him into the wizarding world, what he could do here, that nothing he learned here would help him for his later life, that nothing he learned here would help him for getting a job one day. But Snape had explained to him that, if he worked hard and tried to learn as much as possible, that he then would be able to maybe work at the ministry. He had told him that the ministry always searched people to act between the muggle world and the wizarding world.

And honestly – after what he had learned, not only from his parents and from his former teachers, but from his wizarding teachers and especially Snape too, well, he wasn't so sure if he would want to go back to the muggle world anyway. He actually liked what he had learned here and he – he never would have believed it a few weeks earlier – actually would like to have magic too to study the subjects he wasn't allowed to in yet.

Well, that wouldn't be possible, now, would it?

But at least he was here now, in a large, strange but so cool castle, and he had learned more than his former teachers ever had taught him, not only school stuff, but other stuff as well, like what to do after school, or how to handle himself, to understand what his parents had done to Harry, and what he could do better. And he – even if he still was a bit angry at the man – had actually started to like Snape a bit, enough at least so he listened to him and tried his best. Well, he couldn't deny one thing - Snape definitely was cool, with his billowing cloak, just like batman.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus was worried beyond what he normally experienced while he made his way from the library back to his quarters and he didn't know how to keep his sanity. His first impulse was to – simply panic.

As if they were his first students that were not present where they were expected to be.

But one of them was Harry! And Harry surely was not up to wandering the castle!

But Harry wasn't alone, he was with Draco, Theodore and Blaze, he wasn't alone!

But the boy had been attacked by Quirrel just the day before – and during lessons no less!

But Quirrel was restricted with his – Snape's – wards to the hospital wing!

Well – simply spoken, his mind was in quite a state, the knowledge that his son really was in no danger battling with his emotions, with his fear for the boy that simply was too fragile still, that had been through enough, that had been knocking on death's doorstep not even two month ago.

Just before rounding the corner to the corridor that would lead him to his quarters, in the hope that they simply had missed each other, he spotted four wayward first year students standing in the corridor ahead that would lead to the entrance of the Slytherin common room and for a moment he felt relief replacing his worry, relief that quickly went into anger before reason took place again.

It took him less than two minutes to reach his four wayward students and the moment he approached them he could feel Harry's panic rise. One gaze through the open portrait into the common room and he knew what his Slytherins had been planning, and he nearly could hear the boy's thoughts, worrying about having a party on its own, having that much attention and having done nothing for it.

He couldn't be sure of course, but knowing about the Dursleys what he knew, he was sure that his guess was a very close one and while he appreciated what the children had done he would have preferred it if they had come to him at first with their idea so he could have prepared the boy, knowing that surprises only would startle and frighten Harry.

Gripping Theodore who stood behind his son on his shoulders and gently shoving him aside he stood behind his son and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders just the moment the boy retreated a step in panic, ready to bolt and he tightened the grip, leaned downwards slightly.

"There is no need to run, child." He whispered into the boy's ear. "This is only the Slytherin common room and these students are none else than your housemates. I too am here and you are quite safe, nothing will happen to you."

The boy turned his head, just a fraction, but enough so he could glimpse into a pale and frightened face that was startled and unsure of what to do, and he felt the boy gripping the sleeve of his robes in a desperate attempt to have something, anything to hold on to, anything that would give him a sense of reality. Well, if this something were his robes, then be it.

Harry heard the voice, but did not turn completely. All he did was lift his eyes to his Professor's face, just enough so he could see the dark poles that would secure him, and he tightened his fingers around the bits of robe he had in his fists, the question 'do I have to?' clearly written over his face.

"No, you do not have to." Severus whispered, running his thumbs calmly over his shoulder blades, relaxing him. "But you will be safe if you chose to go inside." He whispered, giving a slight push added to the grip his hands had on the boy's shoulders. "I'm here, and I won't leave you alone."

He could see his son struggling with words, could see him opening his mouth, closing it, just as he had done so often before during the past weeks, and he could see him pressing his eyes close at the realization that no word came out, clenching his teeth together and curling his hands into fists before he forced his fingers to relax themselves.

"Promise?" Harry signed and he nodded.

"I do promise." He answered sincerely, increasing the pressure on the boy's shoulders and shoving him inside.

It was a moment's decision and he couldn't explain it to himself. He also could have given them detention for their actions and he could have led Harry home, but he didn't, gently shoved the boy inside instead. Maybe simply because that would be a chance for the boy to get used to his fellow Slytherins, to get used to being here in the Slytherin common room, to have contact to other children. He didn't know really what drove him right now, but he felt that it would be right.

Harry took a hesitant step forwards, all his senses reaching out towards the man behind him, frightened if he would follow him and he was relieved the moment he felt the professor's presence still behind him, following him, his hands still on his shoulders. Of course Professor Snape had promised, and of course he trusted the man meanwhile – a bit at least – but that didn't mean that he would risk such a big thing as being alone in here.

There were just too much other people in here, it was just too crowded, and it was just too noisy, too loud, too … too frightening … too …

Guiding the boy towards one of the sofas he sat down and then pulled his son down to sit beside him.

For a moment he had considered using one of the armchairs, but then he dismissed the thought. Never mind the added safety an armchair would give the boy, ensuring that none of the others would be able to sit beside him, knowing that he would be really close to him, Harry surely would feel embarrassed by sitting beside him in an armchair in front of the other students, even if he knew that the Slytherins wouldn't think anything and surely wouldn't say anything either.

The sofa would give them the opportunity to make it look like just – well, sitting beside each other instead of hiding while they still were close enough to ensure safety.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It was half an hour past curfew when Harry finally was ready for bed and sat atop said furniture, his teddy bear tightly clutched to his chest and his eyes worriedly cast towards the door and he could see that the boy was wary of a punishment.

**Flashback**

_"__While I appreciate your attempt of surprising Harry with a party, in future time, I would prefer it if you informed me of such an event before you decided to initiate such a party on your own." He growled, not darkly, but he did in the first place, not to startle his son, and surely not to frighten him, but to make clear that he wasn't overly pleased either. _

_"I'm sorry, sir." Draco said, and he was sure that the boy knew that maybe it hadn't been such a good idea and why he was not overly pleased. He had seen the boy casting worried glances at Harry from time to time. He knew that Draco and the others only had meant good, but they had not thought of the consequences, they had not considered if Harry would take it well, being surprised and in the midst of a party right now__, if the boy was ready for such._

_"As I see the good intentions of your actions and as I do appreciate them, none of you will be in trouble – for once." He said, nearly smirking at the guilty looks some of his Slytherins exchanged. "I however expect that you – all of you – think about your actions today, what could have gone wrong and what you could have done differently."_

_"Yes, sir." Draco murmured and all the other heads nodded quickly._

**End flashback**

So – yes, his son right now feared a punishment. He had felt his anger, or his disappointment, and of course he feared a punishment now. It would be a miracle if the boy wouldn't, considering his background.

"I … I'm …" Harry started, still clutching the teddy bear to his chest.

"You are not in trouble, Harry." He simply said, entering the room, hindering his son from apologizing. "And there is no need to apologize. I have not been pleased with the way this party had been planned, but I am not against parties in the Slytherin common room in general as long as they are held reasonably and I appreciated the idea of your housemates. I only would have preferred it, had I known about it so I could have prepared you for the event. I am sure you wouldn't have been as startled, had I been with you from the beginning."

"They … they won-won't … they won't be … they won't be in trouble?"

"Did you not hear what I said in the common room, child?" He asked, taking the teddy bear out of his son's tight grip and gesturing him to lay onto his stomach before he placed the stuffed toy atop the pillow close to the boy's head where he could see it. He banished his son's pyjama top and pouring a bit of the massaging oil onto his hand he started to run his hands over the strained muscles. The boy had – aside from a few moments – been tense and rigid the entire evening, his nerves strained while being in too close proximity to the other students and he was sure the boy's muscles would be sore the next days if he didn't try to loosen them now a bit so he could sleep more comfortably.

"I actually am proud of your housemate's attempts to give something to you, to regard you with a party for managing your first days of classes as you really have done very well and I am very proud of you myself." He said while working on his son's tense muscles. "I however do not appreciate thoughtless behaviour from my students and the way they acted tonight _had_ been thoughtless."

"What had it been exactly you had feared the moment you had nearly run before I came up behind you?" He asked, working his way down the boy's spine.

"I … I rem-remem-remembered … I remembered … I mean … I'm sor-sorry …"

Clearly dejectedly he turned his face towards the wall and buried it between his arm and pillow nearly hitched a breath.

The boy still was not able to talk about the abuse and sighing the Potions Master wiped his hands clean from the massaging oil and then turned the boy on his shoulder onto his back, regarding the pale face with a thoughtful look, a silent question in his dark eyes.

Harry looked at him for a few moments, still miserable and still frightened a bit, but he answered his silent question with a barely visible nod, a sign of how much he trusted him meanwhile and for a moment it was Severus who nearly hitched a breath before whispering a quiet "legillimens".

Carefully he reached out with his mind and brushed his son's, skipping memories of the night's happenings aside until he found the ones that happened just before he had approached the boy.

He could see the boy standing there, panicky and ready to bolt, and adjusting his legillimency until he had his son's thoughts and worries, he grit his teeth.

The boy's mind had been transported back to the Dursleys, remembering birthday parties of his cousin and he had worried about the cake being the wrong, the candles being not enough, his aunt punishing him for not making the correct cake and his uncle punishing him for not preparing the party properly.

As carefully as he had entered his son's mind he retreated and again cast a long and thoughtful gaze over the small form.

"You do know, Harry, you are not responsible for preparing a party in the first place, neither for your cousin nor for anyone, but making mistakes while doing so is no reason to punish a child." He finally said, dark eyes lingering sadly on a pale face with green eyes. "No child should be in the responsibility to prepare a party. A child might help his parent to prepare one for a sibling or a loved person, but doing so alone is not a child's place. Such happenings will not repeat themselves ever, that I promise. Never ever again will you be punished because of a wrong cake or because of too less candles on a cake and surely not because you had not prepared said party to begin with."

He waved his wand over the boy and the pyjama top was back in place.

"Not to mention that you _do_ deserve a party in the first place and that you never had one before does anger me. But I am not angry at you, but at your relatives."

There were a lot of other things he would want to say right now, such as the fact that a child should not cook breakfast for the adults or such as the fact that it was not the child's place to provide the adult with his morning coffee – just for example. And it would be a good example as Harry still felt the need to do so. It had not been just once that he had left his bedroom in the early morning hours to find his son standing in the kitchen and preparing breakfast or making coffee or tea.

But deciding that he had put the boy through enough for one night he kept from saying so.

"We will talk more tomorrow." He said, pulling the covers up over the child's small frame but leaving his hand on his shoulder. "Sleep now."

Watching his son drifting into sleep he shook his head, huffing.

The boy really had gotten him a near heart attack this evening, not coming back from the library but going to the Slytherin common room for a party instead. Such disobedience surely he wouldn't tolerate, he decided, just when his traitorous fingers ran over Harry's forehead and brushed strands of the long and black hair out of the child's pale face, and he growled at himself and his traitorous fingers. _This_ – would not do! Someone would think he actually _enjoyed_ having the brat attached to him like a leech!

His fingers however continued to run over his son's forehead, gently, while at the same time he smiled down at his brat.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had been sitting behind his desk since an hour now, grading essays, and – after a morning that, considering last evening's events, had gone remarkably well – Harry was having a nap on the sofa, his back pressed against the backrest of the furniture, his knees as well as his arms drawn to his chest, but the delicate face calm and peaceful in his sleep.

He had been sitting in the Slytherin common room with his son last night, and Draco had explained everything to him, how Dursley had told him that Harry never before had had a party and that he had promised to stay in the dormitory if they planned a party for Harry for his first days back in classes. He soon had heard from the words Draco used that maybe it actually had been Dursley's idea in the first place and he had wondered why.

Well, the boy had behaved well lately, had been thinking a lot, had asked questions by himself and he had acted reasonable during their conversations. He hadn't approached Harry, even if he, Snape, could see that he wanted to, and he had not once come down to the common room last night. This boy too had come a long way, he had to admit, and maybe it was time to acknowledge this towards him.

So, calling Zilly and telling him to have an eye on Harry, he left his quarters and went towards the Slytherin common room.

Of course he could call Dudley Dursley into his office, but somehow he knew that this, visiting the boy in his common room, would be the better choice. It wasn't the first time he did this, visiting one of his students in the common room, after all. He often did so with them, especially with those he had a closer relationship with at least.

Not that he would call that, what he had with the Dursley boy, a relationship in the first place. He was the boy's guardian and that it was. But well – as the boy's guardian he _had_ a relationship with him.

Entering the Slytherin common room and spotting the boy sitting on a desk, looking up at him, he waved him over. He sat down into an armchair in an abandoned corner and waited for the boy that hesitantly made his way over to him and he watched him calmly.

He had lost weight, visibly, but Poppy had said that he still had not a healthy weight. He nevertheless looked better, not as short winded as he had been. He looked wary still, unsure a bit, but not as frightened and as angry as he had looked during his first weeks here. Waving his wand a set of teacups he earlier had ordered from the kitchen appeared at the small table and he gestured the boy to sit down into the other armchair, opposite him while he erected a privacy charm around them.

"Professor?" The boy greeted him and he inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"How are you, Mr. Dursley?" He then asked, a question he always asked the boy. In the beginning the boy either had simply complained just to complain or he had lied to him and had told him that he was fine. He however had started to actually tell him how he felt meanwhile and that alone was something he appreciated.

"'M not sure, sir." The boy answered. "I'd like to see Harry. I mean, I know that I've done wrong and I'd like to apologize. But at the same time I'm afraid."

"What are you afraid of?"

"Dunno." The boy murmured and he was tempted to tell him to use eloquent language but decided against it at the moment. "That he rejects me. I mean, I would like to hear from him that it's ok, but I know that it would be too much. I guess I've done too much. I think … I don't know …"

"Maybe you misjudge your cousin." Severus said. "Neither am I able, nor do I wish to predict Harry's reaction, I however doubt that he outright will reject you. He definitely will not trust you and he definitely will be wary, but I am sure that outright reject will not be one of his reactions. Give me a few days, Mr. Dursley, to prepare him for a confrontation, and then you will get your chance to apologize. Until such a time however, I expect of you to follow my orders and to keep your distance."

"Yes, sir."

"Am I correct in the assumption that the party last night had been your suggestion?"

"Yes, it is, sir." The boy said. "I'm sorry, I didn't think that Harry would … well … I just wanted … I thought …"

"Eloquent as always, Mr. Dursley, are we?" Severus lifted his eyebrow. "Concentrate, boy."

Well, it wasn't the first time he saw the boy flinching at the term boy, and it wasn't the first time that he compared both boys, remembering Harry's first days, flinching whenever he had used the term boy. Just that both boys flinched from different reasons. Harry had flinched at the term because his uncle had used it against him, mostly in combination with a beating. Dudley flinched at it because he knew that his father had used it again Harry whom he hated.

"You thought it would be a good idea to surprise your cousin with a party because he never had had one before." He picked the boy's sentence up. "And you didn't think that it could startle him senseless. While I do appreciate your attempt, I expect that in future you speak to me if you plan anything regarding your cousin instead of acting before thinking." He pinched the bridge of his nose and for a moment he sighed.

"What do you think, Mr. Dursley, will go through your cousin's head at the term 'party'?"

"Don't know, sir." Dursley shrugged. "Cakes and drinks and stuff."

"And whose cakes and drinks and stuff had he had to prepare for years, Mr. Dursley?"

Getting an idea of what he wanted to tell him the boy blinked.

"Mine, sir."

"Exactly." He growled. "While he not only had _not_ been permitted at the party but had to watch you and your friends eating, while he had been beaten by your parents for mistakes he made concerning your party. Not enough candles on the cake, the cake being the wrong one, not the right drinks on the table, not enough glasses or plates … the list is endless, Mr. Dursley. So – I ask you again, what exactly do you think Harry was remembering the moment he realized that he had stumbled into a party last night?"

Groaning the Dursley boy placed his face in his hands and shook his head.

"Even now I'm harming him." He murmured before looking up, his face pale.

"Draco, Theodore, Blaze and every other Slytherin had his part in this too, Mr. Dursley." Severus finally said. "You did not harm him by intent this time, and that is what counts. What is however the reason as to _why_ I expect you to talk to me next time you plan anything regarding Harry. Do you understand now?"

"Yes, sir." The boy said. "I guess I do."

"You guess?"

"No, I do understand, sir."

"Good, then see that you don't forget it." The Potions Master said, while reaching into his robes. "As I however have seen that you have acted reasonably during the past weeks, that you have conversed willingly and that you study hard and for a goal, I have decided to add a few things to your weekly allowance you already get. I will allow you to visit Quidditch games, which I forbade you in the first place when you came here. Aside from that I will allow my seventh years to take you out to the pitch for flying. You won't be able to fly a broom by yourself yet, but they will be able to take you on a ride until I have managed to charm a broom so it might be flown by a muggle."

If the large eyes Dursley made were any indication, then he was startled out of his pants at that thought.

"You're joking, sir." The boy blurted out.

"Did I ever give you the impression to make jokes, Mr. Dursley?" Severus asked, lifting his eyebrow.

"Uhm … no … not really, sir." The Dursley boy answered, blushing.

"I thought so." Severus drawled, preparing himself for leaving.

"Uhm, sir?" The boy asked, before he could get up, however.

"Yes, Mr. Dursley?"

"I wanted to ask … well … Harry … he is alright, isn't he?"

Severus didn't answer immediately but regarded the boy sitting in front of him with a thoughtful look of his dark eyes.

"He is as well as can be expected." He finally said. "He will however never recover completely, I fear. He has started speaking meanwhile, but he has trouble with this task as it had been years without this freedom and he has to relearn using his voice and spoken words. He still is too small and much too thin for his age, but at least he is able to eat – for his standards at least – relatively normally. He however isn't used to other people yet and he still is afraid of a lot of things and situations. I expect you to regard this when meeting your cousin while at the same time I expect you to keep your mouth shut about what I just told you. If I ever hear that you are teasing your cousin with this information in any way possible, then you will learn just why my reputation is as bad as it actually is."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry had woken nearly half an hour earlier and after finding Zilly cleaning some shelves with books on it he had tried to help. The house elf however had shoved him back towards the sofa.

"Yous is not supposed to do cleanings, Master Harry." The small creature had said. "If yous want to do something, then yous do homework."

Well, and so he now was sitting here, the essay Professor McGonagall had given them in front of him, rereading it and remembering the incident with Ronald Weasley, wondering why the other boy hated him so much.

Well, yes – of course he knew the reason, partly. He was Professor Snape's son and the students didn't like the man, called him names, called him dungeons bat and greasy git and evil bastard. But he didn't understand it.

First – the Professor was not a bat, even if he sometimes looked like one, with his robes billowing behind him, and the Professor wasn't a greasy git either, even if his hair really was greasy sometimes, but that only was because of the fumes coming from the potions he worked with and the students shouldn't call him names because of it. The Professor showered and washed his hair every evening and then it was clean. And the Professor really neither was evil nor a bastard. He was a very kind and caring man, an understanding man who tried to help as best as possible.

Second – he didn't understand why the boy went against _him_. He hadn't done anything. He didn't even know the other boy. He had met him a few times since entering the wizarding world, but he never had done him anything. He hadn't even said anything harmful about him, nothing. And he just didn't understand it.

He remembered breakfast this morning and again he shuddered at the thought of the howler the boy had gotten from his mother. He really would do anything to avoid getting a howler from Professor Snape, from his father, really. It had been horrible. But then – well, the Professor surely would not sent him a howler if he did something wrong. It would be stupid, wouldn't it? The Professor was here at Hogwarts, and if he did something wrong, then the Professor just had to fetch him to punish him.

Again he shuddered and for a moment he didn't know what would be worse.

**Flashback**

_They were sitting at the Slytherin table, Draco beside him, Theodore opposite of him and Blaze beside Theodore, and they were whispering excitedly. Well, Draco, Theodore and Blaze were whispering excitedly while he himself for the most part just listened and smiled at their conversation. _

_They of course tried to get him into the conversation, but honestly, what should he say? And he just would stutter anyway, so he just kept listening to them. He enjoyed it anyway. He knew the three boys meanwhile and even if he felt a bit uncomfortable and a bit frightened still, he wasn't close to a panic anymore._

_He understood why the Professor made him eating in the great hall, even if he didn't like it and he just was glad that he always sat at the end of the table, close to the head table and with his back to the masonry behind him, no other student beside him to his left and Draco, whom he knew meanwhile sitting at his other side. _

_It was just that he was scared in the great hall. He didn't like the other children looking at him, watching him while eating, whispering behind their hands about him, and he was scared that one of them might come over to address him with something, his strange eating habits, his stuttering, his cowardice, anything. _

_Well, he still couldn't just eat a complete piece of toast. It just felt wrong in his hands, too large, too much, and so he still cut the piece of toast in quarters before eating. Professor Snape had done it in the beginning, and later on had ordered him to do it, and so he did, and so he did still. And then there was all the other stuff on the plate, scrambled eggs and sausages. And then there was the pumpkin juice the Professor expected him to drink. And he knew how important it was as the potion that made his body work with all the nutrients he ate – or something like that – was mixed into the pumpkin juice._

_The great hall exploded with chaos when the owls appeared, swarming around their heads and dropping letters and parcels and other things to the respective recipients. He really liked this, always got large eyes at the owls, but every time they entered the great hall and swarmed around their heads he nearly was startled out of his wits._

_A loud screeching voice screaming "Ronald Weasley!" got his attention towards the Gryffindor table – like __everyone else's attention too._

_"How dare you!" The voice screeched and Draco told him that this was Molly Weasley, Ronald Weasley's mother. "How dare you, stealing another student's belongings and a complete bock bag no less, from a boy that had never done anything to you, and then humiliating him! How dare you! We were sitting at the breakfast table, unsuspecting anything evil and then we get an owl from your head of house, a letter, telling us that out son had been caught in the act of steeling and humiliating his classmate! How dare you! That was not what we had taught you, young man and if you pull such a stunt just once more, then I will take you from Hogwarts personally and believe me, I will do so during dinner when every student is present."_

_The voice then changed and the red letter turned, towards the Slytherin table. _

_"Oh, and Harry, dear, I really am so sorry about my son's behavior towards you. He will be so sorry if he does not apologize to you within the next ten seconds. I am really so, so sorry, dear." The letter turned back at Ronald Weasley who looked at the offending piece of paper and the red envelope before sticking out its tongue at the red head boy and then ripping itself in pieces._

**End flashback**

Well, Ronald Weasley _had_ apologized. He nearly had stumbled through the great hall in the attempt to reach the Slytherin table, his face even more red as his hair, and he had stuttered a hasty apology.

He had not taken the other boy's hand, of course not, how could he have done so? But he had nodded at him to show him he had accepted the apology. Draco had glowered angrily at the redhead, as had Theodore and Blaze – and a lot of other students, actually, and the moment the boy had turned away his head suddenly had changed from red to pink, a bright and brilliant pink.

At first he had thought that maybe Draco or the other boy's had done something, but they raised their eyebrows in surprise while snickering and looking over the other students in the great hall, not that there were many present at breakfast on a Sunday, he noticed two identical looking boys with red hair, probably the Weasley twins Draco had told him of once, grinning like mad.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_A prank and detention – what I had promised you last week …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would be grateful if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	48. a potion and a troll

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added author's note:**

I know that I promised you a prank in this chapter, but well – I guess I got carried away again and so I have to apologize but the prank simply will have to wait until the next chapter …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_At first he had thought that maybe Draco or the other boy's had done something, but they raised their eyebrows in surprise while snickering and looking over the other students in the great hall, not that there were many present at breakfast on a Sunday, he noticed two identical looking boys with red hair, probably the Weasley twins Draco had told him of once, grinning like mad._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter forty-seven**

**Pranks, parties and detention**

"Shut up!" A whisper was heard coming from the potions classroom.

"Look who's talking!" Came the whispered answer.

"Just put a cork in it and give me the smoking beetle's eyes. _I'll _crush them." That was voice number one.

"I can do this by myself, idiot!" Voice number two.

"I can see that." Was the whispered answer. "You're powdering them, that's too fine."

"Oh, shut up and trust me."

"Trusting you? That would be a death sentence!"

"It would be a bit more helpful if you lit your wand instead of working with only this small candle!" Voice number one whispered. "I can't see a thing."

"Yeah, sure." Voice number two whispered back. "Set the classroom alight so that Snape will find us more easily."

"I would think _that_ is already too late, Mr. Weasley." A third voice joined into the conversation, a whispered voice, deep and velvet, coming from directly behind them. "The dungeons bat already _has_ found you."

Both twins turned, slowly and with their faces going pale, just to see the dark figure of their Potions Master looming over them and both boys gulped.

"Uhm …"

"Good evening …"

"Professor Snape …"

"May I inquire _what exactly_ the both of you are trying to create at such an hour? After curfew? In my classroom?" The older wizard asked, slowly, his voice still low and calm, and his dark eyes blazing dangerously.

"Uhm … well … it is a potion …"

"That will teach our dear brother …"

"A small lesson …"

"Just for seventy-two hours …"

"And then it will lose its effect …"

"Hopefully …"

"If _you_ don't powder the smoking beetle's eyes …"

"Your brother is quite right, Mr. Weasley." The deep and velvet voice of Snape interrupted them and both boy's looked up at the dark figure. "You should _not_ brew a potion without adequate lightning. You could make – _serious … mistakes_."

With a flick of his wand Snape had the classroom lit up and they could see his pale face, his black eyes and his long hair, his black cloak – all in all, well, they were startled, it was late night, and in these conditions – he actually looked like the dungeons bat. Again they swallowed thickly, looked at each other for a moment and George quickly laid the knife he still had been holding all the time at the work table, as if burnt by it.

Snape folded his arms in front of his chest and glared at them with his dark eyes.

"Any explanation as to _why_ I find two students in the middle of the night in my classroom, brewing an unsupervised potion, not to mention handling potions ingredients that are far above their allowed capacity?"

"Well, as we said, sir …"

"We only wanted to teach our dear brother …"

"A lesson …"

"Only a small one …

"And you never thought about asking your resident Potions Professor for allowance to use the potions classroom during the day?" Snape asked, rather growled darkly at them. "And as _I_ am the resident Potions Professor at this school, I should remember if one of you two had asked for such a thing."

"Uhm … well …"

"Actually we did not ask …"

"Because we thought you surely …"

"Would skin us alive …"

"And use us as potions ingredients …"

"I have to admit that I actually feel tempted doing just that after finding the two of you in my classroom at an unacceptable time." Snape growled at them and again both boys gulped. "As both of you however have an inclination to humor me, and as I am curious as to _what exactly _those imbecilic minds of yours had come up with, I will hold back a punishment – _for now_."

The questioning look Snape gave them made clear – the Potions Master wanted an answer, an explanation, whatever and so again they looked at each other before nodding.

"Well … we heard what happened during transfiguration …" George started.

"On Friday …"

"Not only that our brother took Harry's book bag …"

"But that he humiliated him because he couldn't speak …"

"And so we thought …"

"If Ron couldn't speak for seventy-two hours …"

"He might get a taste …"

"Of what it felt like …"

"Not to mention that it would be …"

"A blessing, having him shut up for a bit."

"And the two of you, pranksters as you are, never used your brains and simply asked your Potions Professor if such a potion didn't already exist instead of inventing one that – considering the ingredients I see lain out on your workstation – might be dangerous?"

Both twins looked over the potions ingredients they had laying on their table before sharing a look again.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus was sitting at the head table, tired and worried, looking over the students at the four house tables, and he wondered why in Merlin's name he had acted so unlike him last night. He should have given the Weasley twins detention for the rest of the school year before handing them over to Lupin – or better Minerva, as he knew that Minerva would be the stricter one of the two.

But then he sighed. He knew why.

He too wanted to see the youngest Weasley under the twin's potion's effects. It had been something he himself would have came up with had he been in the same situation than them, having a brother that acted like a complete bastard. So, he simply had told them that there actually existed such a potion, just the moment his floo had flared and Lupin had asked if he had seen the two Weasley twins that were missing from their beds.

Well, he never had been really happy about the fact that Lupin was working as a teacher at Hogwarts now, and surely not that he was a head of a house at that. In his opinion Lupin should not be allowed to work in a school filled with children and surely not in a boarding school where children resided during the full moon. He brewed the wolfsbane potion, yes, but he didn't trust Lupin.

Yet – Lupin was here, he was head of Gryffindor house, and honestly – contrary to times when Minerva had been the head of Gryffindor, that man at least didn't ignore his student's night wandering through the castle. He had checked the dormitories at midnight and after missing two of his charges he had alerted the other teachers.

However, he had told Lupin that there was no reason to worry as the two culprits were in his company. Lupin had been surprised a bit and he had asked him to hand the two Gryffindors over at him.

_"Surely not, Lupin."_ He had answered. _"As the two of them had been planning to brew an unsupervised potion in the middle of the night and in my classroom, they will do just that. I will hand them over in – five hours, what is the exact time after which the potion will be finished and bottled. I think they will have enough time to think about their actions while brewing for five hours with me looming over them."_

Well, of course Lupin had reminded him that it was already half past twelve in the morning and that the next day was a school day, but he only had smirked at him and told him that _that_ definitely was not his problem but the two wrongdoer's one.

Maybe he should have been thinking about the fact that he _too_ would lose his sleep while supervising the Weasley twins until nearly six in the morning. And right now he wondered why in Merlin's name the twins looked as if nothing had happened last night. They were not tired as it seemed, not grumpy, not yawning, not pale and not red eyed and neither did they have dark circles under their eyes from lack of sleep. They looked as if they had rested well during the night instead of brewing a potion with their dungeon's bat.

Gripping his mug a bit tighter he took a sip of the coffee he had ordered this morning instead of his usual tea and he savored the taste of the bitter beverage.

Well, so that was the reason as to why he was _tired_ – he had cast a charm over Harry that would alert him if the boy needed him during the night and then he had been supervising a nightly brewing session of two young Gryffindors. He however had to admit, it had been a rather pleasant occasion. Of course he had known that the Weasley twins were rather adept when it came to potions, but he only ever had had them in class so far and to have them in his classroom alone – well, that had been rather amusing. He actually considered offering them an apprenticeship in potions after their graduation – and _that_ meant something as he rarely considered a student adept enough for _that_. But honestly, he never had thought that they were that adept and reasonable.

The reason as to why he was worried however, was a complete different and his gaze wandered over to the Slytherin table where Harry was sitting beside Draco. The boy was conversing with the blond boy, in his own slow and unsure way, but he _was_ conversing with the other boy and that was enough for him.

Getting the boy ready for breakfast in the great hall and then lessons after that however, had been a complete different story after Friday's fiasco during transfiguration, and even now Harry was looking up at him every now and then, nearly begging and he knew what the boy was asking for - to allow him skipping classes, what he of course would not do. In the long run it wouldn't help Harry if he now allowed him such a thing.

Well, it was history of magic and herbology.

He didn't worry about history of magic. Harry would be fine with Draco, Theodore and Blaze in a classroom, sitting with the Slytherins. What he however knew would be a problem for the boy, was Herbology. Not that Harry would fear Sprout. Well, he most likely _would_ fear her, but the child feared every one he didn't know, honestly. It was rather the fact that during herbology the boy wouldn't have the safe environment of a classroom. He wouldn't sit at his desk, he would have to move around and he would have to interact with other students, probably even with the Gryffindors and that for – the youngest Weasley, not to mention Dursley.

So yes – he could understand why the boy still was throwing begging glances at him, silently asking him to bring him back to their quarters.

A chocking noise caused his gaze to look over at the Gryffindor table and he noticed Ronald Weasley grasping at his throat. A glance at the Weasley twins sitting at either side of the boy alerted him at the fact that – well, they had poured the potion into their brother's pumpkin juice and he couldn't help smirking at the thought, still wondering why those two defended his son.

Maybe that had been the reason as to why he neither had given them a week's worth detention nor had taken points from them, because they had been brewing this potion without permission and in the middle of the night, in his classroom and risking getting into detention with him to defend his son, something he had not expected from a Weasley, from a Gryffindor at all. But those two had and he had shown them that he indeed appreciated their actions by allowing them to brew the potion instead of punishing them.

The youngest Weasley boy was rather pale now and his face was shocked, before it went angry and then he stormed off, out of the great hall, leaving two smirking twins and a rather confused looking Granger behind. Well, he definitely was looking forwards to the boy's detention tonight.

"Might it be that Mr. Weasley's sudden disappearance has something to do with the brewing you and the twins had done last night, Severus?" Lupin asked, leaning over to him a bit. Well, of course Lupin had heard what had happened during Minerva's last transfiguration class on Friday before Lupin took over on Monday, today, and of course the new head of house had heard of Ronald Weasley's actions during this class last week.

"Why would you think so, Lupin?" He asked, his eyebrow quirked up at the wolf. "Maybe Weasley just chocked on his pumpkin juice." What he definitely _had_, Severus thought, keeping a smirk from his face.

"I just hope that whatever the twins had in mind, it isn't anything permanent or too damaging." Lupin said, casting a stern glance at the two identical Gryffindor third years.

"I am sure that, whatever it is, they were made to act reasonable." The Potions Master answered calmly, refilling his cup with coffee and taking a sip while leaning back in his chair.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

History of magic had went well, as expected.

He secretly had watched Harry going to Binn's classroom, anxious and scared, a complete mess surrounded by Draco, Theodore and Blaze, and now he was standing in the shadows, watching the boy entering greenhouse number one for herbology. He had visited Sprout half an hour ago to have a word with the woman concerning his son.

He normally didn't do so, but in this case? He just _had_ to ensure that the woman knew what to look for, to ensure that the woman kept the Gryffindors and especially Weasley away from Harry as well as Dudley, and he remembered the conversation he'd had with her.

**Flashback**

_"Good morning, Severus." Sprout greeted him. "The __Mandragora haven't had their puberty vocal change yet, but the fennel and the peppermint leaves are at the table by the door."_

_"I am not here because of the herbs, Pomona." Severus said. "But I do thank you for them nevertheless. I will take them with my leave. I would like a word with you, it won't take long."_

_"You are here because of young Harry, I assume?" The woman asked, turning towards him completely. _

_"I am." He confirmed. "The boy still is not completely well and I do not know how he will react during a herbology class where a student automatically has more attention drawn to himself and more interaction with other students than during a class held in a classroom."_

_"Ah, yes." Sprout nodded, taking a knife and digging small holes into a __bed before planting small seedlings, and Severus recognized the seedlings of black skin trees he had asked her to plant a week earlier. "I already have taken preparations about the boy's first class and we won't work while standing today. I will have them doing a few flower arrangements for the feast tonight and this is done best while sitting. They won't have too much interaction."_

_Surprised Severus nodded at her, at a loss for words. He hadn't thought about the Hufflepuff head thinking along the same lines as he himself had._

_"You know Severus, I have learned over the years that there are a few students that have problems with lessons like herbology or care of magical creatures, during which they have to interact with others, especially shortly after the summer holidays and mostly they are your Slytherins." Sprout continued, still working as if she were concentrating on her seedlings alone for which the Potions Master was glad. "I won't ask you for the reasons, but if I can make it a bit easier for them, then I don't have a problem with this. There is enough work here that is done while sitting so I can have a better eye on them. Don't worry, your son will be fine."_

**End flashback**

Well, the boy looked reluctant while entering the greenhouse and he was glad that he had spoken to Sprout earlier. At least _he_ was a bit at ease now. Otherwise he _might_ have done something foolish.

Leave it to a Hufflepuff to notice something about his Slytherins. He thought while walking towards Hagrid's hut before going back to the castle. He had a free period until lunch as most of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw seventh years were in the hospital wing due to a nasty cold they had caught while swimming in the lake at the end of September and he would use the time to visit the half giant. It had been a long time since he had visited Hagrid last, but with Harry and classes and his trial, and then him becoming deputy headmaster – he really hadn't had much time lately.

As idiotic the seventh year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had been, swimming in such a cold weather, it had gained him an unexpected free period.

The half giant was sitting in front of his hut, Fang, his boar hound laying lazily beside him, and Severus nearly smiled at the picture.

He often complained about the half wits and idiots that were his students, childish, silly and foolish, ridiculous, stupid and thoughtless, and in all those terms – Hagrid was the same, just like an overly large child, and nevertheless he liked this overgrown baby.

"Sev'rus!" The half giant greeted him with a large smile on the bearded face, the black beetle eyes sparkled with joy the moment he saw him approaching and Severus shook his head. Only Hagrid could openly be delighted and happy about seeing him!

"Good morning, Hagrid." He greeted, sitting down onto one of the stumps, something he rarely did, sitting down in front of someone and not for the first time he noticed that he had no problems sitting down with Hagrid. He was comfortable enough around that man doing so.

"'Ts been 'long time since ye've b'n here. How'r ye doin'?"

"I'm tired, but otherwise fine, thanks Hagrid." He said, not for the first time realizing that he didn't mind telling the other man how he actually felt. Towards no one else he would admit that he was tired, but he didn't mind telling Hagrid. "You?"

"Yes, I heard 'bout young 'Arry." Hagrid said. "'M glad the lad's with ye now, Sev'rus. He's in classes now, isn't he?"

"Herbology." Severus said, ignoring the half giant blemishing his name. "He is still a bit scared of classes, but he is doing fine. I never would have thought it possible, but I really am proud of the boy."

"Hmm." Hagrid made. "Ye love 'em, don't you? Wanna cup of tea?"

"That would be fine, Hagrid." Severus nodded, ignoring the fact that Hagrid was the only one who dared openly stating that he, cold and dark Snape, loved the boy named Harry Potter, and he couldn't help smirking at the half giant going to his feet with a groan, wondering what exactly the man had been doing to get injured yet again.

Fang used the opportunity to approach him, apparently afraid he would get lonely, and he licked his hands.

"Stop this behavior at once, you overgrown lap dog." He growled. The dog however was not impressed. Neither about the fact that he was growled at, nor about the fact that he was called a lap dog, continuing licking his hand and so Severus leaned closer and grabbed the dog's snout, lifted the animal's head so he could look into the brown eyes.

"I said – stop this." He growled. "Didn't your master teach you manners? One does not lick other people's hands. Do I lick your paws?"

Well, if he had expected an answer then he was greatly mistaken as the dog only barked at him, disappointed that this time it was the Potions Master that was not impressed with the action displayed and only lifted his eyebrow at the dog.

In answer to that Fang again licked his hands, just to get a bit more attention if he couldn't startle the black man and Severus fingers curled around the animal's ear, gently but firmly.

"One should think an animal with as large ears as yours should be able to listen closely." He growled. "But maybe you don't hear good because you are lop-eared? Maybe I should cut them into potions ingredients?"

Of course the dog still was unimpressed by his words and only turned his head as much as possible in the man's grip in order to continue licking the Potions Master's hands. Without success of course and with only reaching the man's wrists he didn't seem satisfied. So he simply did the only reasonable thing – he flexed his muscles and with one slow movement he had his front paws carefully resting on Severus' shoulders, as if the large dog knew that he easily could hurt the slender human being in front of him.

In one go Fang's tongue run across the Potions Master's face, and before the man could react the action was repeated.

"Uargh." Severus made, a sound so unlikely him that he growled at himself and – shoving his lower arm between himself and the animal's chest – he easily shoved the large dog off his shoulders - what Fang didn't like however and he looked at him with a gaze that bordered on hurt.

"Don't look at me like this, you overgrown lap dog." Severus chuckled.

Well, the chuckle definitely _seemed_ to impress the dog, seemed to be an invitation to Fang to stretch again, and his paws this time rested at the Potions Master's chest while his tongue licked his ears.

"Get your tongue out of my ear, you imbecile!" Severus growled, turning his head and shoving the animal's head aside – just to have … the damn animal licked his hair, nibbled his hair!

Enough was enough and the wizard again shoved the dog off his chest and held him down with this time both hands on the animals ears – again gently but firmly.

"Now you listen to me, you imbecilic lap dog! Licking my hands doesn't proof of much manners, licking my face is right out revolting, licking my ears borders on asking for a punishment, but licking my hair or nibbling at them … only a _woman_ is allowed playing with my hair. And last I saw …" He turned downwards a bit, looking at the dog's underside and then smirked. "… _you_ are _not_ a female! Just in case you have not noticed, you are a male dog! So cease from licking or nibbling my hair or you will find yourself in one of my potions. I do know quite a few potions that require male boar hounds!"

Deep booming laugher got his attention towards the half giant that came back with two large mugs of tea and a plate of his – well, _famous_ – rock cookies balancing on a tablet, placed at a third stump and he lifted his eyebrow.

"Those cookies of yours, you can eat yourself." He huffed. "I do wish to keep my teeth."

"Then giv'em ter Fang." Hagrid said, still laughing at the picture of a dark and tough Potions Master having a serious conversation with a dog that had sought out attention by licking the evil dungeon's bat's hands and face.

"Of course." Severus growled. "To reward him for his lack of manners. He would think he gets those rocks each times he licks my face. I would not get rid of him anytime soon."

"He jus' likes yer."

Again the Potions Master huffed. He knew the stupid dog liked him, whatever reason for. The worst part of it was – he liked the stupid dog too, whatever reason for. He wasn't a friend of dogs, of any animals, generally.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Detention with Weasley this afternoon had been interesting. Not because it had been an afternoon, as Minerva had – just like Albus always had – insisted that, much to his displeasure, _all_ the students and teachers had to attend the Halloween feast, but because the Gryffindor had – of course – entered his office wordlessly, his face as red as a beet, and just nodding at him for a greeting and he actually had been tempted to ask for a verbal greeting, just like the boy had done with his son on Friday last week, demanding a verbal answer while knowing that Harry wasn't able to give one.

He however hadn't, knowing from his son's disability how humiliating he always had felt about being unable to speak, and so he simply had ordered the boy to clean out cauldrons.

He had left his office twice during the two hours Weasley had been there, to look after his son.

Harry had left the greenhouse in a better mood than he had entered it and Severus had been glad while – again – watching the boy from the shadows of nearby trees. He then had hurried to the great hall for lunch and he had been pleased to see his son entering with the rest of the first years Slytherins.

After lunch he had approached the Slytherin table and had picked up the boy to bring him home.

Harry had settled in front of the fireplace on the rug and had started his essay for history of magic, and he, Severus, had left for the detention with Weasley. The first time however he had come back to his quarters, half an hour later, he had found the boy laying flat on the soft carpet, soundly asleep.

For a moment he had wondered if he should take the boy to his bed or at least the sofa instead of letting him sleeping on the floor, but then he had decided against it, knowing that the rug he had been laying on was thick and soft, the fire would keep the boy warm and if he would have picked the child up to carry him to his bed or the sofa, he only would have woken him.

The boy was better meanwhile. He had no more trouble breathing, nor walking or getting through a day, but he still did tire easily, he still was exhausted easily and he knew that – in Harry's condition – two classes a day were still tiring for the child. Harry might be almost well now, but almost well was not the same thing as completely well, and even though Harry might not realize it, he wasn't up to full strength yet.

So he simply had cast a shield charm so the boy wouldn't be harmed by the fire if he rolled over and accidentally came into contact with the flames, he had taken the books, parchments, ink and quill and placed them at the coffee table, and then he had left to go back to his detention with Weasley.

He had come back an hour later, just to find the boy still asleep and when he had finally come back after Weasley's detention, shortly before the feast, he had found Harry sitting on the rug in front of the fire, staring into the flames with a nearly shocked expression on his face.

He immediately had known what was going through the boy's head and quickly he had approached his son, knelt beside him, telling him that he was there. He had been startled the moment the boy had launched himself at him, had started to cry.

They had been sitting there in front of the fire for a while longer, but then he had reminded Harry that they had to leave for the feast. He had reminded the boy to not eat too many sweets and surely not before he had eaten some decent food, and then they had left.

Well – and now he was sitting here, watching Harry from the head table.

He could see the boy struggling with the – even for the normal students – enormous assortment of food, unsure of what to take, casting unsure gazes at _him_ every now and then. For Harry this amount of food surely was horror, being not used to such. At the Dursleys he hadn't had any choice of what to eat, he'd had to eat whatever he had been given – _if_ he had been given anything at all. And mostly that what he _had_ gotten from them had been old craps, stale bread and at best a piece of spoiled meat that every other human being would have thrown away, that only had made the boy ill.

During his stay here the past two months, he had gotten what he, Severus, had given him, what he, Severus, had deemed healthy and nourishing and with a frown he noticed that maybe he should have given the boy more choices of what he had wished to eat. Even during the past days, while Harry had been eating here in the great hall, the assortment hadn't been so large. The students could choose between toast, scrambled eggs and sausages, or cereals or porridge for breakfast. For lunch they could eat different sandwiches, and during dinner they got what the elves cooked down in the kitchens.

So – all in all, the boy simply was overextended with the enormous amount of different foods lain out on the table and he knew that without help the child would be reaching a panicking point soon.

Drawing his wand he levitated a chicken wing towards his son's plate, potatoes and vegetables followed suit, and finally the boy's goblet filled itself with Pumpkin juice. Harry looked over at him again, a small, relieved smile on his face and he lifted his eyebrow at his son. Sometimes he wondered if the child ever remembered that he now lived in the wizarding world.

"I'm looking forwards to Harry's next transfiguration class, Severus." Lupin, sitting beside him, said. "I have heard a lot about Harry since I'm here, and he looks better than last time I saw him in the book shop. He isn't completely well yet though, is he?"

"Of course, he is not." Severus growled at the werewolf, looking darkly at him. "The boy had been close to death after years of being mistreated and such cannot be undone by only two months."

Furrowing his brows Remus looked at the Potions Master thoughtfully.

Severus sounded as if he felt offended, but he hadn't meant it as an offence. It had been a simple statement, nothing else. He hadn't thought of anything behind it. The boy _did_ look better than last time he had seen him and he of course knew that it was due to Severus' care of the child. He only was worried in general. Harry, as Lily's son, had been an important person in his life many years ago and after Lily and James had been killed and Harry had been placed with his relatives, he often had wondered how the boy grew up. But never would he have expected child abuse and neglect.

Had he only known …

But he hadn't. He always had thought that the child had grown up like every other child, going to school, having friends, doing homework and then going out to play before coming home for dinner into a family where he was loved and welcomed. The moment he had learned that Harry hadn't even been allowed to visit school, he had been furious.

He of course knew that Harry had been abused and neglected since he had met Severus with the boy at the book shop, it had been obvious, but he hadn't known how far the ill-treatment had went. He only had learned more of it the moment he had taken over the post of head of Gryffindor house. And he had been shocked.

He had considered going down to the dungeons and visiting Severus and Harry, but there hadn't been much time, he had to admit. Between preparing himself for his new head of house duty, getting known his own students, the Gryffindors, and going through the lesson plans for transfiguration – he barely had found time for sleeping.

"I didn't mean it as an offence, Severus." He said. "Harry _does_ look much healthier than I had seen him at Flourish and Blott's."

"I didn't _take_ it as an offence." The Potions Master growled back and Lupin sighed. As it seemed, it was just the animosity that still lingered between them. Well, it was to be expected, wasn't it? He simply would have to try to get along with the man that now was his colleague. Had he only listened more to Lily than to James, back at school, he could have been Severus' friend.

But he hadn't dared.

It hadn't been easy for him, being a child suffering from an illness that made him an outcast, and James and Sirius had accepted him without second thoughts. He simply had feared losing them and so he had followed them, had been a member of the marauders. He should have seen reason earlier.

The moment he finally _had_ seen reason, he had seen that the pranks James and Sirius had played on the Slytherins, especially on Severus, had been more than just simple pranks, it had been too late already. The damage had been done already and he still hadn't dared to approach the young Slytherin to apologize, never mind how often Lily had told him he should.

"Your other young charge has settled into Hogwarts' routine rather well too." He said, looking over at the Dursley boy, again wondering why exactly Severus had brought the boy into the wizarding world. He knew Severus well enough so that he knew the man surely had had a reason. Severus did nothing without one. But he didn't know what reason it was for that he had brought him to Hogwarts. It was a quite uncommon thing to do. As far as he knew, no other muggle had ever been at Hogwarts in the past.

For a short visit during children-parents days or other festivities, but not for a longer period of time.

"Indeed." The man growled, not giving any information away.

"Isn't he shunned by the Slytherins?" He asked, his curiosity overtaking his tact. "He's a muggle after all and – no offence, but your house generally is known for their pure blood status."

Well, as it seemed, it had been the wrong thing to say and the moment the head of Slytherin turned towards him, he realized just this. The man definitely looked murderous.

"First, Gryffindor has four pureblood first years this year, as has Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw has five. That makes thirteen pureblood first years. If every one of my students were purebloods, then there would be twenty-two pureblood first years at Hogwarts. A bit unrealistic, don't you think, Lupin?" Severus growled at him and he had to admit, his question might have been a bit out of place.

"Second, Harry – just for example – is not an entire pureblood. The Slytherin house has as much half bloods and even muggle born children as has every other house. My students however do not go against their own! And third – you are still full of prejudices. Maybe you think about _that_ before you worry about my students or my wards, wolf!"

Severus turned back towards his plate and his goblet with a scowl on his face and he could see that he – again – had made a mistake. It wasn't his first one. He had made mistakes concerning Severus his entire life, since their childhood and now he only could try to make it good somehow. If this still would be possible one day.

"I'm sorry." He said, gaining another growl from the Potions Master and head of Slytherin house.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Everyone seemed to enjoy the feast.

Minerva and Lupin changed words every now and then, Sprout and Filius were in a deep discussion about charms used in a greenhouse while the other teachers had conversations with each other. Some of them were sipping wine and Trelawney actually seemed to have had just a bit too much of the red liquid.

The students were joking and laughing, enjoying the food, especially the sweets and watching them he noticed that the Gryffindors were more boisterous, as usual, except of Weasley who still was unable to use his voice and Granger who had missed the feast completely. The Weasley twins especially seemed to be in a particular good mood. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were laughing and joking too, just not as loudly as the Gryffindors and his Slytherins were the quietest. He however could see some of the faces smiling and that was enough for him, knowing they were happy.

And nevertheless Severus was glad the moment the Halloween feast finally was called over by Minerva and he could bring Harry back to his quarters. The fact that Lupin had tried to converse with him every now and then had been more than just unnerving and he didn't understand what the wolf wanted with him. Did he really think that he, Severus, would forget and forgive so easily just because he was here now? Just because he was a head of a house now too?

He was an unsocial man and everyone knew this. They knew it and they accepted it, left him alone, and he was glad for it. He loved his freedom, his solitary and his peace. He rarely visited the staffroom aside from official meetings and he rarely visited other teachers aside from Minerva – and Filius lately.

Harry, looking up at him with tired and pleading eyes, asking him in this silent way to get him home, got him out of his thoughts and he silently nodded at his son while approaching the Slytherin table. Harry had not touched the sweets that had been served after the regular meal and right now the boy was beyond tired and exhausted, bodily as well as mentally.

Reaching the table and that for the boy, he placed his hand on the child's shoulder.

"Let's get you home and ready for bed." He quietly said, and seeing the relief in Harry's eyes he knew it was the right decision. Calmly he watched his first years getting up, following the second year students which followed the third years and so on. It was a routine they all were familiar and comfortable with, waiting until everyone had finished eating and leaving the great hall together, as the house they were, and he was just about to lead his son towards the double winged entrance doors when Filch hopped in.

Well, there wasn't a better word for when Filch tried running. The man simply seemed unable doing so and it always was rather a hopping than anything else. That wasn't however what had him startled. It rather was the man's face that was a startled and scared pale, panicky mask.

"A troll!" Filch screamed, gasped. "In the castle … a troll!"

Well, for a moment the Potions Master's heart skipped a beat and his immediate thought was – Harry!

His second thought was – that blasted stone!

Making a decision right now, in this situation, it was the hardest task he ever had had until then. His first impulse was to bring Harry to safety, through the teacher's entrance door, down into the dungeons and into his quarters, to lock and to ward the area to ensure his son was safe. On the other hand he knew that it was a diversion while someone was after that blasted stone and he cursed Albus once again for risking all the students' lives while placing the stone at Hogwarts.

"Draco, Theodore!" He growled darkly, grabbing both boys by the scruffs of their necks to stop them. Ignoring his son's scared face, ignoring his flinch, he took Harry's hand and placed it in Draco's, folding Draco's fingers around Harry's. "Take Harry with you to the Slytherin common room. Don't lose him! Harry, you stay there until I come to get you!"

He didn't even wait for the boys to nod but turned and went towards the door behind the staff table that would lead to the third floor where not only the forbidden chamber laid but the staffroom too. One last glance back assured him that his Slytherins were on the way to leave, Harry in their midst, that Sprout and Sinistra were looking after the student's while Minerva was gathering the other teachers around her, having the situation under control, and he went through the door, worried more over his son than the stone itself, cursing all the way under his breath.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Still cursing – or cursing again, Severus hurriedly limped towards the dungeons.

First Filch had hopped into the great hall, announcing a troll in the castle, then there had been Harry whom he worried about, he had reached the third floor and the door to the forbidden chamber, just to find – _Fluffy_ – this damn, blasted, three headed dog guarding the trapdoor peacefully and being bitten by the blasted animal for waking it. But well, at least it had not been in vain completely.

No one else than Quirrel had he met up there, Quirrel, who had been supposed to be in the hospital wing and under his, Severus' wards, however he had managed to escape them.

Of course he had taken him to task, but the moment he'd had him pinned against the wall, there had been a call. The troll was in the dungeons.

Never mind Quirrel – Harry definitely was more important than the imbecile and he dragged him along, not giving him a chance to go after the stone while he went towards the dungeons, while his own heart beat furiously.

Harry was in the Slytherin common room.

And the Slytherin common room was in the dungeons.

As was the troll now.

If he survived the heart attack that was about to come, then he would first kill Quirrel for breaking the wards and escaping the hospital wing, then he would kill Albus for placing the stone at Hogwarts. After that he would kill Hagrid for lending Albus that damn, blasted three-headed dog as a guard for said stone, never mind how much he liked the half giant, and finally he would leave the castle with his son. He would bring him to China or to Austria or to Africa – as far away from England and Hogwarts as humanly possible and he would never ever again allow his son out of his eye sight! That much was for sure!

Well, he wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him the moment he reached the place of the summoning.

The girl's bathroom.

Close to the dungeons.

The troll laying there on the floor, in the midst of the bathroom, unconscious.

Granger standing between the ruins of the destroyed stalls, dirty and scared but otherwise – luckily – unharmed.

Just then his gaze fell onto Draco, Dursley and – Harry! – and if his heart hadn't stopped beating until then, then it definitely did so right now! He actually was tempted to close his eyes momentarily at the shock, while he was trying to somehow calm down.

Draco looked pale but collected, his wand still in his hand. Dursley looked distressed and scared, and Harry looked startled and pale, a fine film of perspiration on his forehead and the troll's large club grasped tightly in his hands, _however he had gotten_ _his hands at this one_, not to mention that the boy was not even _behind_ the others but in the front line! Still standing in front of the others, with Draco at his side and even a fool could tell what exactly had happened here.

But what in Merlin's name had they been thinking …

The boy could be … they all could be dead …

His to-kill list definitely was about to grow …

"You four!" Minerva finally gasped, pointing at the four first year's students, shocked too, and her voice definitely showed it. "You need to explain your actions, immediately."

"Well …" Draco started but was interrupted by Granger.

"It's my fault, Professor." The girl said and Severus' gaze intensified at her. Somehow he knew that the girl didn't tell the entire truth. "I had run after the troll. I had been reading everything about trolls and I thought I could deal with it. If Harry, Draco and Dudley hadn't come after me … well …"

"Yes, Miss Granger?" Severus asked, wanting the girl to finish her sentence, to acknowledge her foolish actions, to say it aloud that she could be dead.

"I … well … I mean, I probably would be dead." The girl said, hanging her head.

"You _surely_ would be, you foolish girl. And the same goes for you three." Severus growled darkly at the students and right now he didn't care that he frightened Harry. The boy was lucky that he had survived. "All of you could be dead!"

"I am more than disappointed in you, Miss Granger." Minerva said. "You will lose your house five points for your foolish actions, going after a troll!"

"As for you three." The Potions Master said, glaring at his Slytherins. "Not even your dumb luck will keep you from a punishment. Ten points each from Slytherin – for disobedience and foolishness."

"Well, Miss Granger, I expect you in your dormitory …"

"If I may, Minerva …" Severus interrupted the headmistress who looked questioningly at him. "I already do have three students to punish and one more won't be a problem."

"Very well, Severus." Minerva nodded. "I will inform Remus."

"Get Quirrel back to the hospital wing, please, Minerva." Severus said. "And do ensure please, that he won't leave again."

The headmistress nodded at him and Severus turned back towards the four culprits, casting a dark glare at them.

"After you." He shortly ordered, extending his hand towards the corridor. "My office, if you please."

The Potions Master watched the small figures while considering their punishments and realized that two of them were hurt by the way they were moving, the two that had been standing in the front line, Harry and Draco. He would have to ensure that they were alright before he dealt with their punishment, hoping that being punished wouldn't set Harry back. But he couldn't just drop it. Not this time, not with the boy jeopardizing his life.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_to punish four troll hunters  
_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would be grateful if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	49. punishments

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added author's note:**

I know that I promised you a prank in this chapter, but well – I guess I got carried away again and so I have to apologize but the prank simply will have to wait until the next chapter …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_The Potions Master watched the small figures while considering their punishments and realized that two of them were hurt by the way they were moving, the two that had been standing in the front line, Harry and Draco. He would have to ensure that they were alright before he dealt with their punishment, hoping that being punished wouldn't set Harry back. But he couldn't just drop it. Not this time, not with the boy jeopardizing his life. _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter forty-seven**

**Punishments**

Severus quietly led the four wrongdoers down the dungeons corridor, opened the door to his office with a short flick of his wand and a muttered password and then strolled into his office, holding the door open until all four students were inside before he closed the door behind them, all the way considering his next curse of action.

He had made himself very clear at the beginning of the year, at least towards Harry and Dursley. Draco had known from earliest childhood on what the punishment for placing himself in danger was and it had been more than just once that he'd had his godson over his knees for a sound spanking. But normally the boy was too much a Slytherin to get into that kind of trouble.

Another thing it had been with Dursley and Harry and he remembered _those_ conversations too well.

**Flashback**

_"__You do know why Professor Kettleburn turned you over to me?" He asked the newest of his students sternly while standing behind his desk. _

_"Because I didn't listen to him during lesson." Dursley answered, sitting at the chair in front of his desk, his fingers playing nervously with the hem of the shirt he was wearing while he was too proud to admit that he was afraid and the boy looked defiantly at him instead. He quickly added a "sir" however at his raised eyebrow._

_"That is correct, Mr. Dursley." Severus said. "What have you been doing instead of paying attention during class?"_

_"Uhm … I've done nothing …" The boy answered and __his lifted his eyebrow at the boy drew even higher. _

_"Try again, Mr. Dursley." He simply said. _

_"Well … I was drawing pictures." Dursley finally admitted, looking rather startled at him. Well, the boy had been sure that Kettleburn had not seen his drawings, what he indeed did not have. So – even if he, Severus, had not known what exactly the boy had done instead, he of course had known that he had done something. _

_Well, Dudley Dursley hopefully was left believing that the rumor of him, being able to read thoughts, was true. _

_"I would overlook it, __had it been the first time, Mr. Dursley." He sternly said. "It however is not and I have no other option than dealing out a punishment right now."_

_"What …"_

_"As I am your guardian, Mr. Dursley, it not only is my place to provide you with what you need, but with what is necessary for you to grow into a reasonably young man too, in this case, to set a punishment if necessary." He said, noticing the startled eyes of the boy and knowing why exactly he was startled. "I won't however beat you, as this seems to be your general fear. A punishment will be lines or an essay to write, detention to serve with me or any other teacher. A punishment can be restriction to your dormitory or your weekly allowance being withheld. House points taken on your behalf or house intern points taken from you. Never however, Mr. Dursley, and it is important that you trust me in this, will a punishment be a beating or food that is withheld from you. There is only one single case in which I will resort to a corporal punishment, and this will be if you are placing yourself deliberately in mortal danger. A corporal punishment however will be no beating in the sense you have seen and learned from what your father bestowed onto your cousin. It merely will be my hand on your bare backside for twenty strokes and nowhere else. Nothing else will happen. Did I make myself clear?"_

_The boy nodded, angrily, but visibly relieved._

_"Now to your punishment for not paying attention during classes, Mr. Dursley. You will be writing an essay as to why it is important to pay attention during your lessons. Two feet of parchment, to be handed in tomorrow evening. Furthermore you will apologize to Professor Kettleburn."_

**End flashback**

Well, Dursley had taken this knowledge rather well, even if he had been looking rather angry at the prospect of being spanked by him and he guessed that the boy would show the same reaction today. Dursley was a boy that had grown up spoiled rotten, he never had been punished and he definitely never had been touched otherwise then being shown affection and love.

It had been different with Harry, and he knew that he treated very dangerous ice.

**Flashback**

_"__Believe me, Mr. Potter. You will not be punished for small mistakes." Snape said, trying to explain the rules to the boy – a difficult task, considering that the boy had been punished in a most cruelly way for his entire life and for the smallest things. "You will not be punished for example if you simply spill something, or if you just drop something. And you will not be punished for an accident. Neither for things you are just not capable to accomplish, nor for things you cannot help. You only will be punished for disobedience in matters which you could have obeyed or which are dangerous in some way for yourself or others around you. Do you understand what I wish to tell you?"_

_The boy took a while to consider what Snape had said. And the nod he gave was a careful nod, an unsure one and Snape lowered his head to his left._

_"Not easy to understand in your case, I know. But believe me, you will learn with time what I mean by this. And you will learn with time what I expect from you. Important is only that you will not be punished for minor things that happen. This you do understand?"_

_This time the nod was a bit more sure, even if not as sure as Snape would have liked. Yet, he accepted it._

_"Good. Now the punishment itself. A punishment can be house points which are taken on your behalf, or house intern points that are taken from you. A punishment can be detention. Or a ban from Quidditch or Hogsmead visits. A punishment can be an essay to write, or simply lines to write. There are a lot of options. But, what you have to learn is, that a punishment will never, __absolutely never__, be a beating. We do not beat our students. Nor do we deny them food, drinking, sleep, healing or other essential supplies. Do you understand this?"_

_This time it took a long time until the boy finally gave a small nod and Snape was sure that he may have understood, but that he did not believe the words and he gave a sad sigh. Yet – had he really thought this to be so easy?_

_"I however think it important for you to know what might come, and so I now inform you that there is one case in which a corporal punishment will be dealt out. This case is if you deliberately place yourself in danger.__ It won't be a beating as you know it, this I promise to you and you simply will have to trust me on this. It will be my hand on your backside for a number of smacks I deem appropriate at the specific time and nowhere else. Neither will I ever harm you, nor will I ever hurt you. I won't use anything else than my hand and I won't use my hand anywhere else than on your backside."_

_The scared look on the boy's face told him enough. Neither did the boy understand the difference, nor did he believe him and he sighed once more. It would be a long way until the boy would learn this, until the boy would trust him._

**End flashback**

Well, as sure as he was that Dudley Dursley would react in an angry way to a spanking, as sure he was that Harry would react in a scared way. Both conversations had taught him that much. The children mostly reacted in the way they reacted when being addressed with the subject for the first time.

"Sit!" He said, conjuring two more chairs in front of his desk and waving his wand over the children that were sitting in front of him while muttering a diagnostic spell he made out a sprained ankle on Harry's part and a few bruises on Draco's part. Dursley and Miss Granger were uninjured. All four were suffering from shock but otherwise alright, and walking towards a cabinet in a corner behind his desk he wordlessly got two healing potions and four calming draughts.

He wouldn't give them the calming draughts right now however, they had had their adventure and they should feel what it felt like, being shocked about previous actions. So he walked back to the four, stood in front of them and wordlessly he reached the healing potions towards the two boys.

Draco took his immediately, uncorking the vial and downing its contents, while Harry looked at him startled and scared without taking the vial. He was sure he knew what was going through the boy's head. He had been disobedient, had gotten himself into trouble and he was back in the obnoxious thinking that he didn't deserve healing while at the same time it was a way to punish himself for his actions.

"Take it!" Was all he said, his voice calm but a low growl that made clear he wasn't pleased with the situation, strict and demanding while his dark eyes blazed with concealed anger, and slowly the boy reached out with a trembling hand to take the vial. It took him however another dark growl, another command and another pointed look from the Potions Master until he actually finally opened it and then drank the potion down.

Extending his hand wordlessly Severus took back both vials and then went towards his desk to stand behind the furniture. He placed his hands on the desktop, visibly, so that Harry easily could see them, knowing the boy only would get scared if he wasn't able to see his hands right now, and honestly, the boy already looked frightened enough as it was.

He still was not sure what to do concerning their punishment.

What had happened, had been seriously and dangerous enough.

Well – he would have to learn more about what _exactly_ had happened before he acted.

"An explanation, if you please, and preferably a better one than the one you have given the headmistress." He finally said, his voice stern and cool but calm.

There was silence for a while, Harry's eyes frantically, terrified, going to and fro between the floor and him, Severus, Dursley staring at the fireplace, Draco looking at him for a moment before lowering his eyes towards the floor and Miss Granger looking at him with wide eyes.

It was Draco who finally broke the silence.

"Well, we followed the prefects down the hallway that leads to the dungeons, when Harry said 'Granger' and turned to the bathroom over there." Draco said, throwing an apologetic look towards the black haired boy, knowing that they would get into very deep trouble if they now lied to their head of house. "I refused to let go of his hand and so followed him."

"Mr. Snape?" Severus asked, looking at his son.

The boy looked up at him with large and frightened green eyes, trying to get out any words, struggling with the attempt before trying to move his trembling hands into signing – which failed just as much, and his hands finally went together in front of his chest, fingers linking into a desperate knot and the Potions Master was strangely reminded at the one evening in the hospital wing where the boy had been kneeling in front of him, pleading with him to let him go. He actually had to swallow and to grit his teeth to avoid showing his emotions and to just let the subject go, knowing that he simply couldn't do that, knowing that the children, Harry included, needed to have consequences for their foolish actions.

He never had felt so relieved and so angry at the same time than he did right now.

The child was all right now, shocked, but physically all right, but just _thinking _at everything that _could_ have gone wrong made his stomach twist into painful knots, made him feeling ill and he knew he had to drive the point home while at the same time wondering if this was how parents felt and how they coped with those feelings.

"Pansy and Millicent were talking about Granger, sir." Dursley finally spoke up for Harry. "I was behind Harry and the two girls were walking beside him and I heard them. Harry apparently too and when they said she was in the girls' bathroom near the dungeons, he left the others. Draco followed him."

"Is that correct, Harry?" Severus asked, taking a deep breath and barely believing his son's foolishness. The boy nodded at him, his linked hands still in front of him, pressed against his chest as if begging for something.

"Miss Granger?" He turned towards the Gryffindor girl.

"Well … yes … I was in the girls' bathroom near the dungeons." Granger answered and he lifted his eyebrow at the girl.

"The troll wasn't there then." He said. "So you had not been after the troll, why did you lie to the headmistress?"

"Well … you see … Ronald had said a few nasty things." The girl finally whispered, dropping her gaze to the floor. "And I went in there and … well … I … I cried."

"And you didn't want anyone to know about you crying in a bathroom." Severus said, suddenly understanding.

The girl only nodded. She hadn't known about the troll, she just had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"And why have I found _you _in this bathroom, Mr. Dursley?" The Potions Master asked the young muggle boy, fixing him with sharp dark eyes.

"Well …" The boy dropped his gaze. "I know … I mean … I never had seen a troll, sir. I didn't even know that they really existed. I always thought that they simply were … in children's stories. But I thought, if they really existed … and Harry had gone there, and I just wanted to know that he was alright. I …"

The boy broke off and the Potions Master gave another sigh.

As he saw it, Granger had been in this bathroom, crying, not knowing about the troll. Harry had overheard Pansy and Millicent talking about Granger being in said bathroom, and he had come to the right conclusion, namely that the girl didn't know about the troll. He had run off to safe her, pulling Draco who had refused to let go of his hand along with him, and Dursley finally had followed _those_ two because he had been worried over his cousin.

He barely managed to keep himself from groaning out aloud with frustration. Those foolish children! Those stupid, silly, idiotic, reckless, thoughtless, irresponsible and foolish children! They – all of them – could be dead by now! They were lucky they lived to tell the tale! They could have been …

"In future, I would appreciate it if you did _not_ attempt to try my patience by lying first before finally admitting the truth." He growled darkly, causing them to flinch at his words. "Merlin knows I have little enough of it to begin with."

Dursley was the only one stupid enough to silently chuckle at those frustrated muttered last words, as if he couldn't figure out that the man actually was being perfectly serious and Severus sent him a glare that shut him at once.

"As none of you have corrected Miss Granger's story in the beginning, all of you will write an essay about lying." He finally said. "Why you should not lie and what would have happened if you had told the truth from the beginning. Three feet, to be handed in tomorrow evening."

He watched all four of them nodding.

"Miss Granger." He then addressed the Gryffindor girl. "As I take it that you simply have been at the wrong place to the wrong time, you will write me another essay about leaving the student body without telling an older student, preferably a prefect or seventh year, your head of house, or any other teacher about your whereabouts. Another three feet, to be handed in by tomorrow evening. Added to this, you will apologize to the headmistress for lying at her."

A low murmured "yes, sir" was the answer while the girl had his head down and without further ado Severus handed her the calming potion and then softly called for Zilly who appeared a moment later with a soft 'pop'.

"Please bring Miss Granger to her dormitory without detour, Zilly." He said.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The house elf grabbed the girl's hand with a quickly muttered "yes, master Snape" and was gone a moment later with another soft 'pop'.

"And now to you three." He said. "I am sure you know that, contraire to Miss Granger, you have placed yourselves into danger, into _mortal_ danger, I might add, deliberately."

All three boys nodded at him, Dursley's and Harry's eyes wide with fear, the latter one shaking now with terror, and he again was close to just stop it there. He didn't stop however, knowing that he had to go through it. He had announced what punishment would follow such an act as placing themselves into danger, and he simply had to go through it now. Only then the children, all of them, would trust him that they always could count onto his word. Not to mention that they simply had to feel the consequences of their actions.

"All three of you will write me an essay about your actions tonight, what you felt, what dangers you have placed yourselves into, and what you could have done otherwise." He said, trying to sound calmly despite what he felt. "You will work separately and the essay is to be handed in tomorrow evening before curfew."

He received another nod from all three of them, and he knew that he had to be very careful now. It surely wouldn't do if he had Harry or even Dursley over his knee first. Neither of them had ever received a spanking, Harry suffered from serious abuse and Dursley only ever had received his father's examples about punishments. Draco was the only one that knew what was to come, what it meant and how to handle it. So the only logical thought was to take him first and he gazed over at his godson.

"Come here, Draco." He softly said, extending his hand and beckoning the boy over.

Draco did, reluctantly a bit but he came over and without request opened his trousers to pull them down.

What happened next had even _him_, Severus, startled however.

With a small and frightened "no" Harry, as pale as a ghost, lunged forwards and pulled the blond boy towards him, shaking like mad while a fine film of perspiration covered his frightened face, his terrified eyes large at him, Severus, in a way that clearly screamed 'hurt' and 'betrayal', and for a moment the Potions Master was as stunned as the other two boys before he realized the situation completely.

"Release Mr. Malfoy this instance, Mr. Snape!" He calmly but strictly said, knowing he simply had to keep the upper hand of the situation, never mind how hard it was for the boy, not to mention for himself, seeing his son so distressed.

He didn't want to frighten his son like this. The boy had been through enough in his short life and he surely didn't need this added to his already broken soul and mind. But at the same time he knew that the children, all of them, needed to learn out of this situation and they only then could learn out of it if he stood to his word, never mind what.

Well, Harry didn't obey and he was just about to repeat his order in a sharper tone of voice when Draco shook his head towards Harry, murmuring to him that he should do as told, that he, Draco, would be fine, that it wasn't the first time, while nearly prying the smaller boy's fingers off his robes.

"Sit back down onto your chair, Mr. Snape!" Severus ordered with a low growl the moment Harry finally _had_ released Draco, not because he simply wanted the boy back on his place, but because he feared the boy might drop every moment now. He once more considered to just letting the boys go, they had their essays to write after all. But again he knew that he simply couldn't do this.

If he promised something, he had to keep his promise, and if he announced a punishment, then he simply had to stick to it. Otherwise he would lose the trust of his students. Otherwise Harry wouldn't be able to learn to trust him.

Waiting until Harry was sitting on the edge of the chair, nearly sobbing, nearly holding his breath, his entire body language screaming _stop_, he gritted his teeth, not for the first time this evening and focused onto Draco who stood beside him, sitting down onto the chair he had summoned, the one that had been behind his desk, and he took the boy over his knees.

Draco knew that the minimum would be ten swats while he never gave more than twenty, and so he decided to take the middle way, giving his godson fifteen strokes. This way the boy would know that it was serious what he had done, but that he still went soft on him, in some way.

Draco kept still, at still as possible at least, while at the same time he could see the boy's shoulders shaking, knowing that he was crying and the moment he finally stood him on his feet in front of him, the boy threw himself into his arms, murmuring a miserable "I'm sorry, uncle Severus" while he openly sobbed into his chest.

He folded the boy into his arms and rubbed calming circles over his back.

"Hush, child." He whispered. "It is dealt with and you are forgiven. Just promise me that you won't do such a foolish thing ever again."

"I promise, uncle Severus." The boy said, slowly calming down and the Potions Master nodded.

Well, that had been the easy part, he thought, handing Draco his calming draught so he could be sure the boy was able to sleep tonight and then calling for Zilly, asking the elf to get Draco back to his dormitory. He turned towards the Dursley boy, knowing that he better dealt with Harry after Dursley, knowing that he would have to deal with an emotional breakdown even before the spanking. Damn, whom did he try to fool? The boy already _had_ an emotional breakdown.

Ignoring this disturbing feeling for the moment he extended his hand towards his ward, beckoning him over.

"Mr. Dursley, it is your turn." He calmly said.

"No!" The boy shook his head. "You can't …"

"I can, and I will, Mr. Dursley." Severus growled. "You have been following Mr. Snape and Mr. Malfoy to that bathroom, knowing that they were about to probably face a troll, and thus you have been placing yourself into mortal danger, _deliberately_. You will receive the same fifteen strokes as has Mr. Malfoy. We can deal with this the easy way and you come here by free will, or we can deal with this the hard way and I simply will force you to. The choice is yours."

He nearly breathed a sigh of relieve the moment the boy came over, slowly, reluctantly and fixing him with a glare that definitely said 'I hate you', but he obeyed and Severus was glad for it. Harry didn't need another scene. The sooner and the smoother this went over, the better. He didn't really care right now if the boy hated him. They all did in this situation.

The first stroke had the boy placing his hands over his backside and Severus pulled them away and readjusted the boy so he had his left arm over the boy's upper body, pressing him against his own torso while he took hold of Dursley's other arm, thus keeping him from trying to place his hands on his backside again while at the same time keeping him from struggling too much.

A "you're mean", accompanied by loud screams, followed by a "that's unfair" and an "I hate you" was soon replaced by loud sobs and further attempts to struggle out of his grip and once more the Potions Master was glad the moment it was over. One child left to deal with, while at the same time the most damaged child and thus the most difficult one left to be dealt with.

Sighing he stood Dursley onto his feet in front of him, getting to his feet too, expecting the boy to hit his fists against his chest in a fit of anger and shame, but the boy instead followed Draco's example and – initiating physical contact with his new guardian for the first time – he threw himself against his chest, clinging to him while sobbing uncontrollably.

Sighing but without hesitation Severus folded his arms around this boy too and stroke soothing circles over his ward's back.

"Calm down now, child." He said with a low and calm voice. "It is dealt with and you are forgiven. You can calm down now, Dudley. It had been fifteen swats on your backside and I am sure you can handle them. You can calm down now."

Well, it took him longer to calm this boy than it had taken him to calm Draco, but that had to be expected. Dudley Dursley never ever in his life had been punished before and he didn't know how to deal with the situation. He most likely had been missing the physical contact with his mother too and so it was no wonder that the boy stayed in his arms longer than necessary.

Shoving the boy away at arm length he finally looked into the tear stained face.

"I want you to promise me, that you never ever will do such a foolish thing again, Dudley." He said, trying to make his voice sounding not too harsh but not to gentle either. "You might not belief me right now, but I _do _care for you too, otherwise I would not have taken guardianship over you. I _do _care about you and I do _not _want to see you in danger ever again."

The boy quickly nodded with a "yes, sir" while whipping his sleeves over his eyes. Severus handed him a handkerchief and the vial of calming potion and then again called for Zilly, asking the small elf to bring the boy to his dormitory and ordering him to bed.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Turning finally towards his son he couldn't help hesitating for a moment before he had himself back under control. The boy still sat on the edge of the chair, frozen in place and as tense as a hamster in the owlery, his only movements his shakings, and Severus actually sighed in desperation. What in Merlin's name should he do with the child?

He cast a long look at the boy, trying to get as much calmness as possible into his gaze and then finally reached out his hand, beckoning the miserable child over to him.

Of course the boy obeyed, now that it wasn't a friend in trouble but _'only'_ himself, now he obeyed, reluctantly, shaking and soundlessly murmuring apologies, pleas or other incoherent words under his breath and the moment he finally, after what seemed like a lifetime to him, stood in front of him, the Potions Master sat down at the chair and very slowly pried the boy's shaking hands apart and took them into his own, looking at the small fingers covered by his own lager ones for a moment before looking into the boy's pale face and terrified eyes.

"You have seen what happened to Draco and Dudley." He gently and calmly said, realizing that he would get nowhere with the child this emotional, and as much as he would like to get this over with he knew that he first had to calm the boy down as much as possible, that he had to reassure him first. "You have seen that it won't be a beating. It will be fifteen smacks on your backside and nothing else. I won't harm you and neither will I touch you anywhere else, nor will I use anything else than my hand. It will smart, what is the intention behind the punishment, but it will by no means hurt as much as you now fear or what you are used to. I won't beat you, do you understand this?"

The hesitation behind the nod the boy gave him made clear that he didn't understand and Severus locked his dark and calm eyes with his son's green and frightened ones.

"It won't be a beating, I promise, Harry." He simply repeated. "Only my hand on your backside for fifteen smacks. Do you understand this?"

Again the nod was frightened enough that he knew the boy still didn't understand. Well, how could he? He had learned nothing else than being beaten into a bloody pulp until he lost consciousness if he were lucky.

"Take a deep breath, Harry." He gently ordered. "I won't harm you, I promise. I won't draw blood nor will I cause welts. I will only use my flat hand, not my fist, I promise. Do you understand this?"

Once more – it was a nod he received that told otherwise and Severus was quiet for a moment, studying his son carefully.

Did the boy have any idea how close he was to completely undoing the man? Looking at Harry, still so frightened, still not able to trust fully, the Potions Master knew he did not. Harry had no idea that he had given the older wizard a reason to live a different life with his presence, or how lovable he was. He did not know how proud he made him or how much he caused his heart to hurt every so often. He did not know that he caused him to open his heart, or exactly _what_ he did to him.

Noticing that the child's frantic breathing had calmed down a bit he sighed.

"Are you ready?" He asked, not able to keep the worry out of his own voice, but he didn't really mind. They were alone, only Harry and he were here and there was no witness to his weakness and neither to Harry's. They were in private and they could feel safe, could allow themselves to admit their weaknesses.

The boy gave the smallest nod away and Severus could see how the boy prepared himself for a beating, for being hurt and for being kicked at, for being whipped and then for being left alone afterwards in a tiny cupboard for only Merlin knew how long.

Realizing that the frozen boy simply wouldn't be able to pull down his trousers by himself he undid the button and carefully pulled them down, allowing the boy to keep up his shorts, reminding himself that the child had been abused sexually by his own uncle and knowing how the child must be feeling right now.

That it was what he had meant, telling Filius that he had to punish his students in privacy and individually. While he could give a few smacks on Draco's bare backside, or on Dursley's, he couldn't do so with Harry. He would have to deal out the punishment, but he couldn't do so in the same way he did with others. Neither would the boy being able to handle it, nor would he understand it.

Taking the now again shaking boy over his lap he gave the first smack, firmly, but not as harshly as he could have done. He rarely did so with his first years and he surely wouldn't do so with this child that had had enough pain in his life. He was meant to feel them, they were meant to sting, but they were not meant to be cruel.

Harry meanwhile didn't even notice that the Professor counted the smacks as he suffered through his punishment. It surely would have helped, a little, if he had noticed. But Professor Snape's hand simply hurt, even if he didn't know what hurt more, the smacks themselves or the realization that they could have been worse, much worse, that they didn't hurt as much as uncle Vernon's beatings, and he simply tried to keep from squirming as the number got higher and he held his breath to keep himself from giving a sound away.

At the end of the fifteen smacks the boy over his lap was crying, still silently, and with his past – well, Severus had known that the boy would suffer soundlessly. Aside from screaming out aloud in his nightmares, when being asleep, the boy never made a sound while being in pain or distress, it was something the Dursleys had beaten out of the child and with a sigh he stood his son in front of him, ordering him to breathe.

The boy did, taking a shuddering breath, but contraire to Draco and Dursley Harry did not throw himself into his arms, just stood there, scared and lost, causing the Potions Master's chest to clench painfully, and there just were the tears running down Harry's face while he redressed the still stiff and frozen child and then quickly transfigured the chair into a more comfortable armchair so he could draw the child into his lap. He didn't manage though.

The moment he reached out his hands to grasp the boy's shoulders and to draw him close, Harry stumbled backwards, his arms in front of his chest and ready to go higher at his, Severus', slightest movement and his hand froze mid-air.

"Hush, child." The Potions Master whispered, pausing for a moment, his dark eyes fixing his son with a gaze that told of warmth and comfort, that was meant to reassure and to calm the child, before he continued his movement, even slower this time, reaching out and simply touching the small shoulder before curling his fingers around the thin upper arm and carefully drawing the child closer while continuing to whisper meaningless words. "Everything is alright, child. You are quite fine. I am here. I won't let you alone now. It is over and you are quite fine. Come here."

The child finally seemed to get out of his daze and while Severus still drew his son closer, Harry looked down at himself, at his hands, at his arms, at his entire form, as if to ensure himself that there really was no blood drawn, that there really were no broken bones, that there really were no welts left, probably not even noticing that he was drawn closer by his father and neither noticing his own actions.

"Everything is fine." Severus, guessing his son's fears correctly, continued his soft words. "There is no blood. There is no broken bone. And there is no welt left. Everything is quite fine. You are quite fine, child. Everything is alright. Take a deep breath, son."

Harry did as he was told, automatically, took another deep and shuddering breath and then he looked up at his father, finally allowing the man to fold his arms around him. The moment he had his son in his arms the boy broke down completely, crying and sobbing, whimpering out barely recognizable words.

"I … I w-was … I … I was … I was … sc-scar- … I was … I … scared … I was … I was scared …" The child sobbed, trying to make himself understood somehow. "I … I wan-wanted … I … I was … I … I'm … I'm … sor- … I'm sor-sor-ry … sorry … I'm sorry … I'm sorry … I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm …"

"Hush, child." Severus said, holding his son tighter and placing a finger on the boy's lips to stop his frantic mantra. "I know you are. It is over and you are forgiven. Calm down now. You are safe and I am here. I won't let you alone now. Just hush, you are quite fine, everything is quite fine. Just calm down now. I'm here. Hush. I simply should tie one of your legs to my desk in the laboratory to ensure you won't leave my sight ever again. Hush now, child." He added when he noticed that the boy did not fall for his joke and he ran his hand in soothing circles over the child's back, slowly and carefully pulling his son into his lap, hoping the boy would be ready for this, wouldn't be startled out of his wits.

The moment the boy finally was sitting atop his thighs, leaning against his chest, his hand came up to cradle the back of his head. "You must promise me that you won't do such a thing ever again."

Harry simply nodded his head against his chest and Severus knew that right now the child simply was not able to voice any of his thoughts into spoken words and he accepted it as what it was.

"Good." He simply said while they just were sitting there, together, for several minutes more, the Potions Master holding his son and the child clinging to his father as if to a lifeline.

Harry did not dare letting his father go, feeling helpless, needing this physical comfort without knowing _that_ he did need it, just feeling comforted and just feeling that everything was alright, just like the Professor had said, while at the same time he feared that the man would push him aside like he deserved it and at the same time he was wallowing in the new situation of being comforted after a punishment. Uncle Vernon never had comforted Harry, and neither had aunt Petunia. They always had pushed him away since he was a toddler and in need of comfort and he soon had learned that comfort was not something he would ever get.

Uncle Vernon never had spanked him either, not like this. He had beaten him, kicked at him, punched him with his fists and he had used everything he had found to beat him with, and he never had cared where he hit him either, and he never had talked to him before, and surely not after, and he never had stopped so soon, and … and …

"Oh, child …" The Potions Master, clearly seeing the boy's thoughts written all over his forehead, cradled his son even closer not knowing what to do to ensure the child that he was there, that he wouldn't let him alone, and that he wouldn't abandon him like his aunt had done, that he wouldn't beat him like his uncle had done, but just the moment he wanted to say all this to the child, even if he had done so just a moment ago, not really minding the fact that he had to repeat himself all the time with this child, Harry shook his head, indicating that he was alright. He didn't really believe it, but he accepted it at the moment.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The Professor had sent him to bed at one point or another sometimes earlier, but neither was he sure when exactly it was, nor was he able to actually sleep. Too much was running through his head, letting his thoughts stumbling through his head like mad.

The Professor once had told him to count if he was unable to sleep. To count sheep, or dragons he so much liked, and not able to decide which to take he counted both, sheep and dragons in turn. Dragons like the one he had sitting on his shelve, the one the Professor had given to him once, but soon the dragons were hunting the sheep, were catching them and then they were eating them and with a violent shudder he reopened his eyes, looking over at the shelf the dragon stood upon, harmlessly and unmoving.

He closed his eyes again, not sure what to make out of all of this that had happened this evening.

It simply was strange and he simply didn't understand it.

He had gone against his father's orders to go to the Slytherin dormitory directly and to wait there for him. He had overheard Pansy's comment about Granger and he had realized that the Gryffindor girl wouldn't know about the troll. So he had gone back to the girl's bathroom they just had passed and he had dragged Draco with him as the blond boy had refused to let go of his hand.

He hadn't realized Dudley following them until they were in the bathroom, together with Granger and the Troll that bit by bit was about to destroy the room.

He wasn't able to remember how they had managed to survive the troll, how they had managed to bring him down. He remembered a lot of ducking and a lot of sidestepping, he even remembered that at one point he had stumbled and then his ankle had hurt. He remembered that at one point he had taken the troll's club but he didn't remember how he had managed it. And then the troll had been laying there and Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall were there.

He didn't remember their way down to the Professor's office, nor did he remember all that had been said. But he remembered the terror he had felt the moment the Professor had said he would spank them and he remembered the terror he had felt the moment the Professor had ordered Draco to step closer.

And then, from one moment to the other, Draco and Dudley had been gone and he had been alone with Professor Snape, and he had known, whatever had happened to Draco and Dudley, it would be his turn now. He hadn't even been able to wonder what exactly had been happening to Draco and to Dudley, nor where they had gone to, too scared to think about that at that moment.

He had known that he had messed up, he _still_ knew that he had messed up – but what he didn't understand – his uncle would have beaten him to death. His uncle would have killed him. But the Professor hadn't. He couldn't understand, and so – well, he simply couldn't stop thinking about it and he couldn't stop himself from squirming in his bed, from turning over and over in his bed.

He knew he had done wrong. He knew that he had done horribly wrong. He knew that he had placed Draco and Dudley in mortal danger, but he couldn't understand why the Professor had given him only fifteen smacks on his backside. Not that he complained, they definitely had been horrible enough, and his fear that had gone with them had been horrible enough too. But they had been nothing his uncle would have done and he simply didn't understand and he didn't dare to think about _what_ the Professor would have stored in mind for him for later punishments.

Yes, Professor Snape had told him that it was over. That this had been all of it and that he was forgiven. But he knew that it wasn't true. He had endangered two other children's lives, and that surely couldn't be erased with fifteen smacks on his backside and an essay to write. It simply was impossible. He should be … they should … he shouldn't be allowed to …

_"You didn't think that I would go so easy on you, didn't you?" The Professor asked, growling down at him, his face angry and his voice cold. "I have trusted you, that you would be a bit more responsible and grateful. I have depended on you, that you could be my son, that you would make me proud. But you have disappointed me. Your relatives have been right. You are a worthless and ungrateful freak and you deserve to be punished. You shouldn't be allowed to live. You have endangered my godson's life and you have endangered your cousin's life. That cannot be excused.__ Never!"_

_The moment the last word had registered in his brain the Professor had taken him, had pulled him out of his bed and a moment later he was back in his cupboard at the Dursleys, knowing that Professor Snape was just across the hallway, in the living room, telling his uncle that he, Harry, had endangered Dudley's live and he knew that the Professor had left him, that he had abandoned him, that he had brought him back to the Dursleys, and he knew that soon uncle Vernon would beat him to death for endangering Dudley's life. Maybe he would die quickly, hopefully uncle Vernon would be so enraged that he would finally lose it and kill him quickly__, hopefully he wouldn't have to go through weeks and month of uncle Vernon's beatings._

_He simply couldn't help but start sobbing. He'd had a family. He'd had a father, but he had destroyed it all, he had ruined it all, he had thrown his only chance he'd had, the only chance the Professor had given him, he had thrown it away, and he hadn't even called him father yet, he hadn't even called him dad or something like that. He only always had called him sir, or Professor, even in his own mind. He never had acknowledged him as his father, ungrateful as he was. And now his father was gone, because he had messed up, as always. It was his fault, all was his own fault. He had destroyed his entire family. _

_His mother had died because of him, because she had tried to protect him. James Potter, his step-father, had died because of him. And then his cousin had died because of him, because he had led them all to a troll. And Draco, his father's godson, had died because of it, because of him. Only he had survived, but he didn't deserve to survive while he had caused so many deaths. He could understand that his father didn't want him anymore. He could understand that he brought him back to the Dursleys, and he could understand that uncle Vernon would have to punish him for killing his son while he had to put up with him, with the freak. He feared the beatings that were to come, and soon, he was sure, but at the same time he could understand him, he knew he deserved them._

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The Potions Master had sent Harry to bed after he had given him a calming potion and he had looked after him ten minutes later, had tucked the blankets around the still so delicate child, had ensured that the boy wouldn't freeze during the night that had grown rather cold down here in the dungeons.

Then he had checked on Draco and on Dursley. Both boys had been asleep when he had entered the first years boy's dormitory and he had carded his fingers through both boy's hair for a moment, sighing with relief that they were alright. He loved his godson, despite the fact that he always tried to tell himself that he wasn't capable of loving someone and today's evenings had shown him just as much. Once again.

And the Dursley boy? Well, he had to admit that the boy had come a very long way. He had learned and he had seen that he had been wrong. The boy had changed, he simply had to acknowledge that. The boy had followed Harry because he had been worried over him. He wouldn't have done so two months ago. Maybe this child too could be saved. Not from a Death Eater father and a path that was a dark one, but from himself and a path that was just as dark as the Death Eater children's ones were.

And now, nearly an hour later he served himself two fingers of his good whiskey, smelled the strong scent and tried to relax into the armchair near the fireplace.

Well, Mr. Dursley was in his bed, knowing that he better didn't mess around with his guardian, disobeying his orders. Mr. Malfoy was in his bed, knowing that he should have alerted one of the older students instead of following Harry. And he knew that Draco without efforts would have managed to drag Harry along to the Slytherin common room if he really would have wanted. And Mr. Snape was in his bed, knowing that he better didn't disobey his father, at least not if it really counted.

Of his three wrongdoers in his house, this child had been the one that had learned the biggest lesson tonight. He had learned that he wouldn't be harmed by him, that he wouldn't be beaten by him, that he wouldn't be starved by him and that he wouldn't be abandoned by him. He had learned that he always would carry out the punishment he had announced and nothing worse, but nothing less either. He had learned that part of a punishment was to be being forgiven too.

It might not have been ingrained completely into the boy's head yet, he knew that, he wasn't a fool. The child probably would still not completely understand why he had been punished so easily, in his eyes at least. But he knew that his son _would _understand one day, it simply would take some more time and he simply would have to work on that.

Again he remembered the terrified face, the fact that Harry had refused to be comforted at first, believing that he wouldn't deserve comfort after what had happened, and sighing he ran his hand through his hair. Well, at least he hadn't driven his son into sleeping underneath his bed this time.

Soft sobbing reached his ears and with another sigh he got up and placed the tumbler with the golden liquid onto the coffee table. He should have known that the boy would have nightmares after tonight's adventure and he should have given him dreamless sleep before sending him to bed.

He entered his son's room and he was already by his side as his child's sobs turned into terrified screams while the entire small body thrashed around in his bed, squirming and writhing as if being under the effects of a terrible beating, the covers pushed down to the foot of the bed in a jumbled mess and he eased himself down onto the mattress, easily capturing his son in strong arms.

"Wake up, son." He said, loud enough so his son hopefully would wake up but gently enough so he wouldn't startle the frightened child any more than he already was. "It is alright, Harry. Wake up, it is only a nightmare, it is not real. You are safe, I am here, child. Come now, wake up. That's it, child."

He stroked the damp hair away from Harry's face, summoning a wet cloth from the bathroom and wiping the tears and sweat from his son's pale face.

"That's it." He repeated. "That's right, child, calm down now. You are safe and I am here. I will not abandon you."

He sat on the bed and held the child tightly to his chest, his son melting in his arms, melting under the comfort he gave him, and he lifted his eyebrow in near amusement. This was the same child that had just a few hours ago used a troll's club to keep said troll away from his friend, his cousin and Granger. This was the same child that still did not dare to address him with father or Merlin behave – he shuddered for a moment – dad. This was the child that still did address him with 'sir' or 'professor', even if he had asked for permission once.

"Are you alright now?" He asked when Harry seemed to be fully awake finally, his eyes holding his son's steadily and calmly. "And I want the truth, Harry. No telling me something is fine if it is not, this is serious business. Your evening has been strenuous enough."

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_How will Harry handle the next days?_

_How will Dudley handle the situation?_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would be grateful if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	50. I thought

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year in Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added author's note:**

I know that I promised you a prank in this chapter, but well – I guess I got carried away again and so I have to apologize but the prank simply will have to wait until the next chapter …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

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**

* * *

Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_This was the same child that still did not dare to address him with father or Merlin behave – he shuddered for a moment – dad. This was the child that still did address him with 'sir' or 'professor', even if he had asked for permission once. _

_"Are you alright now?" He asked when Harry seemed to be fully awake finally, his eyes holding his son's steadily and calmly. "And I want the truth, Harry. No telling me something is fine if it is not, this is serious business. Your evening has been strenuous enough."_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter fifty**

**I thought**

Severus Snape had not slept last night at all.

He rather had been sitting in one of his armchairs in the living area, listening into the dark for any signs of distress coming from Harry's room, while he went inside to have a look at his son every now and then, knowing that most probably the boy would have nightmares after the kind of evening he'd had.

The troll, realizing that another student might be in danger, going after Granger – and that for, even if just indirectly, the troll, in the same act going against his orders, what meant a lot concerning this particular child, the fight with the troll, and last but not least, the punishment, being smacked on his backside and the realization that it wouldn't be more, that he wouldn't be beaten. Not to mention the fact that most likely the boy still waited for further punishments.

And nevertheless he was up now, standing in the kitchen and preparing breakfast.

It was the day after Halloween and that for a holiday, he should be laying in his bed and enjoying the fact that he wouldn't have classes today, but one – he couldn't help thinking of how far the boy had come in so few days generally, and two – well, he was used to being up so early since Harry lived with him.

Well, barely two weeks ago the boy had started speaking, and now he was visiting classes. Only the morning classes, yes, but he _did_ visit them.

He remembered how restless the child had been after those first words, not able to go back to bed for nearly two hours. The boy simply had not been able to believe it himself, to believe himself that he finally had started speaking, and the restlessness of his mind and of his body had been understandable enough so that he had not reprimanded his son for it.

The next morning had been a difficult one for him, Severus. As much as it had been a difficult one for Harry too, he was sure of this.

He had prepared breakfast as usual, had laid out the table and he had been afraid of what would happen, not sure if those few words would be the only one spoken from his son, not sure if the boy would be able to still speak or if he would fall back into his silence. Not sure if … not sure of anything.

He had searched the boy's face the moment he had entered the kitchen just when he had finished tea and had placed the toast for him and the cereals and milk for Harry on the table, and it had been difficult to keep his own fear out of his face, to appear calm and collected so he wouldn't frighten or startle the boy that surely had felt startled and frightened, and unsure enough.

The boy tiredly had nodded at him by way of greeting, and not for the first time he had cursed the Dursleys. Harry was up at five in the morning, _every_ morning, mind you, not allowing himself to sleep longer, because he was used to making breakfast for his _'family'_ every morning so that his uncle could have breakfast at six and leave the house for work at seven.

He had tried to send the boy back to bed a few times, but Harry always had been laying there, not able to go back to sleep, while most likely the boy was worried over not preparing breakfast, over letting him, the adult, his guardian, preparing breakfast while it – in his eyes – was _his_ job doing so, and so he simply had allowed the boy up at such an untimely hour. It was better than worrying himself dead and at least the boy got to bed early in the evenings and took a nap in the afternoons, so he had enough sleep.

On this day, back then however, he would have liked the boy sleeping longer as he had been up late into the night and as tired and sleepy as he had been at five in the morning, he of course wasn't up to talking at all. So he had waited until his son finally had been fully awake, all the way through breakfast getting no other answers than a headshake here or a small nod there, fearing the boy might not speak again at all.

But Harry had, at the end of their breakfast, and he, Severus, had not been able to hide the relieved smile that had crossed his face back then.

Frowning the Potions Master cast a tempus, and noticing that it was nearly six in the morning his frown deepened. The boy was late. He never had been in bed after five in the morning, and something told him that Harry was not asleep, but that something else kept the child from coming out of his room.

Silently he went over to the boy's room, peering inside, hoping against hope that maybe his son still might be asleep, but through the gap of the boy's door he could see him sitting on the floor beside his bed, still in his pyjamas, his knees drawn to his chest and his arms wrapped around his knees. The boy was awake, probably had been since five, sitting on the floor.

That was another thing, Harry still had not accepted – that he was allowed to sit on the bed whenever he wanted. He still sat on the floor and only used the bed for sleeping. Quietly he knocked at the doorframe.

"Good morning, Harry." He said when the boy looked up at him, getting to his feet, scared but not startled. He probably had guessed that he would come to his room at one point, but had feared the moment at the same time. Well – considering last night, it was understandable. Severus sighed.

"Breakfast is ready, Harry." He simply said. He would get the boy out of his room first, would get the boy having breakfast, and then he would try to talk with him, to undertake something with him. They had the entire day for doing so and it promised to be one of the last warm and sunny days before winter.

Well, Harry seemed to have other plans however, as the boy quickly looked aside and shook his head.

"Are you planning on skipping breakfast, Mr. Snape?" He asked with a raised eyebrow at his son. "Have I not been clear when I told you that you need to attend each meal?" Well, he should have known that they would be back a few notches after yesterday.

"I … I thought … I thought that you … would-wouldn't … that you wouldn't like … to see … to see me, sir."

"Mr. Snape!" For a moment he didn't know if he should shake his head or if he should run his hand through the boy's hair. "We live in the same quarters, child, how do you think we could accomplish _that_?"

"I just … I thought … I don-don't … I don't know." Harry answered, hanging his head.

"I thought so, home here, child." Severus said, beckoning the boy over and opening his arms.

Harry unsurely looked at the tall and lanky man that was his father now, who stood with his arms open as if he expected Harry to go to him. But he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, now, that the man was angry at him. So he kept standing, undecided, worrying his lip between his teeth.

On one hand, it was a situation they'd had rather often lately, the Professor opening his arms for him for an embrace. He himself never initiated such a kind of touch by himself, it simply was nothing that ever came naturally to him, it simply was the one thing the Dursleys had taught him – that he was a freak, that he was not worth of being embraced, of being loved, of being hugged or touched in any other way than being beaten. It was the one thing he had learned by the Dursleys, to flinch when touched unexpectedly. But the Professor did. The Professor initiated such things like embraces and touches, and he really liked them.

On the other hand, right now the man surely still was angry with him. Uncle Vernon always had been mad for at least half a week – what meant that he always had been angry at him, he noticed with a sigh. However, he didn't know what to do right now. The Professor had promised he never would beat him.

But he had done – well, no, he had not.

Or had he?

He had called it a spanking, and honestly, it hadn't been the same as uncle Vernon's beatings. It had been _far_ from uncle Vernon's beatings.

It had been nothing he ever had experienced before in his life. Professor Snape had talked to him, had explained what he would do. And he had done exactly what he had explained. And he hadn't drawn blood and he hadn't even left marks, he had looked, later on, in his bed. And he had not broken anything either. It had been just a few smacks. They hadn't even hurt as much as uncle Vernon's beatings. And the Professor had not locked him in a cupboard afterwards, he had not abandoned him afterwards, he had been there for him afterwards, had held him, had comforted him, even if he wasn't injured.

But it had hurt!

The Professor stepped toward him, and without even thinking about it, he backed away, his arms going up in front of his chest, ready to go higher.

Gritting his teeth and ignoring the boy's retreat for now, ignoring the boy's preparations for defending himself, he inclined his head towards one side, his dark eyes still fixed at his son, indicating that it was alright to step closer for an embrace. It wasn't the first time that Harry refused to step into his arms when offered and he was sure it wouldn't be the last time they were in this particular situation either. That for he knew, he just had to wait patiently. The boy would come, he knew. The boy wanted to, he knew. This child craved for affection, love and physical comfort, he craved for it like no other child he knew, he just was afraid of it at the same time. After two months away from the Dursleys, the child still was not used to physical comfort.

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And the boy did, taking a guarded step forwards, waiting for his reaction for a moment and then taking another step when no reaction came aside from an encouraging nod, and then a third one, until the child stood between his open arm, warily leaning against his chest with his side and slowly he folded his arms around the small form.

"That's it, child." He said, running his hand up and down his son's rigid back. "I do understand that you still need time to understand the fact that I am your father, and what it means for both of us, but I had hoped that you might have started to understand that I won't beat you like your uncle have done."

The boy didn't answer, and he didn't press for one.

"I do see however, that it might be normal for you, being wary and guarded. Two month surely won't undo ten years of abuse. But do you really still think that I might beat you one day? Do you really still think I might starve you one day? Abandon you one day?"

Of course the boy gave him a shaking of his head as an answer, not daring to tell him what really way going through his mind because he didn't want to hurt him.

"Harry?" He simply asked, lifting his son's head and after a moment the boy looked at him unsurely and miserable, he lowered his gaze to the fingers that were placed underneath his chin and finally gave a small nod away.

"Oh, child." The Potions Master sighed. "I don't know how I can make it clear to you that I never would do such things to you." He murmured.

"I … I know … I know that you … that you won't." The boy finally whispered, leaning his side even more against his chest and he could feel the bony form trembling against him, could feel the boy's bones through his pyjamas. "But … but I … but I don't know why … and then … I don't know … I don't know why I … why I still think you could."

"I think you do know, Harry." The Potions Master said. "You just may not realize it. And that is normal as well. We all do things sometimes without knowing why exactly we do them. Suddenly having a father who cares is a big thing, child, and I do know that you need time to get used to it. You might not know consciously why you still act afraid, but I am sure in there you do know it." He said, poking the boy's chest with his forefinger, causing him to wriggle in his arms while a startled expression ran over the small face, a startled expression that after a moment was replaced by a soft giggle – that again turned into a startled gaze at him and he lifted his eyebrow.

"You actually are allowed to laugh, Harry." The Potions Master sighed, shaking his head. "I am not your uncle who feels offended at each and every sound you make. I am your father and I do hope that one day I will hear your laugher. I don't know, maybe you might believe that I have done all these things, offered you all these things, a room, a home, clothes, a family, out of only concern and pity. I did not however. I did offer you those things, because you are my son. I did not brew that potion to proof that you are my son, but to leave no doubts of this bond to anyone, because the moment I brewed it, I already knew. You are my son, Harry, not only by adoption, but by blood. You are my son, not only because I have sired you, but because I chose you by adoption. I am not just obliged towards you, I do want to care for you. It is my own free will. I do want to hear you laughing and I do want to see you happy one day. And now, Mr. Snape, I suggest breakfast awaits us. And as you are supposed to eat in the kitchen, it simply is too bad for you if you have to be in the same room as I for breakfast, even if you do not want to be around me right now."

"What?" Well, that had gotten the boy out of his miserable state and he looked up at him with large and startled eyes. "But … but I … but I do not … I …" The startled look turned into a desperate one.

"Well, then I do not see a problem here, Mr. Snape." Severus smirked down at the child he still held in his arms. "Because I surely do not want to do without your company, child."

"But … but I thought you would …"

"Well, you have thought wrong. First, you have to eat something, child. Your stomach is not guilty, whatever it is you have done. Absolutely never will I withhold food as a punishment. And second, you have had your punishment yesterday, it is over and it is forgiven. You have promised me that you won't do such a foolish thing ever again, and so it is a new day and a new beginning. Yesterday is yesterday, and we won't go back. Today is today and we will go further from here on. Is that understood, Mr. Snape?"

"Yes Sir." The boy finally murmured, burying his face in the folds of his robe and he simply tightened his grip around the small form and then lifted the boy up into his arms, carrying his son into the kitchen and placing him atop the chair he normally sat in.

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The Professor had left for the Slytherin common room ten minutes ago, promising he would be back soon, and Harry now was sitting on the sofa in their living are, pondering over his father's words. He had been about to go back into his room after breakfast, but Professor Snape had made it clear that while he was allowed to go into his own room, he would appreciate it if he did so only if he really wanted to be alone and not because he thought he, his father, would not want to have him around.

And so he had stayed in the parlor with the older wizard.

Well, he did understand what the Professor had said, he even could feel it, but he did not understand why the man acted so different from how his uncle had acted.

His uncle was related to him.

Professor Snape was related to him.

He, Harry, was a freak at the Dursleys.

But he wasn't a freak at his father's home.

Why?

What was the difference?

Had he changed?

He didn't think so. He still did strange things that had gained him the name freak. The only difference now was – he was supposed to do such things.

So – he had not changed.

Hogwarts was a school for witches and wizards. So maybe everyone here was a freak?

Surely in his uncle's eyes.

But did that mean that his father was a freak too?

Professor Snape taught here, on a magical school, for Merlin's sake!

Or maybe Professor Snape was right and he wasn't a freak at all?

But why had his uncle then said so?

He did understand the concept that he was _normal_ – _here_, that he was _wanted_ here, that Professor Snape was his father, that his father wanted him and that he never would really hurt him. That he neither would starve him, nor that he would lock him away. He even started to understand that, even if his father got mad at him, he was comforted after a beating.

Well, apart from the fact that it hadn't been a beating. It had been a spanking. And he had to admit it really had not been …

He turned in circles, again, he noticed.

But he simply couldn't grasp the difference between the two, even if he _knew_ that there was a difference, he had felt the difference. And he simply couldn't get the difference between his former life with the Dursleys and his life with Professor Snape, with his father, here and now, into his head, even if he knew that there was a difference also, he did feel the difference, he felt it every day.

But he didn't understand why … he didn't understand the reason … his hands automatically went over to the backrest and took hold of the black cloak his father had thrown over the furniture earlier, or last evening, he didn't know … but if he hadn't a reason, if he didn't find a reason … then he couldn't know if it would last … he leaned to his left, leaning against the armrest, while running his hands through the black material of the Professor's cloak … and if he didn't know … well, it could change at every point … he could be abandoned at every point …

He fell asleep on the sofa, the Professor's cloak clutched in his hands … he didn't even wake as the door to Professor Snape's quarters silently opened, his father entered, watching him for some time, and then lifted him into his strong arms until his upper body lay on his father's lap … he did not wake when gently fingers run over his forehead, softly stroking back a fringe out of his face before carding through his hair …

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Entering the Slytherin common room, Severus looked over his students, his dark eyes piercing them, until they fell onto his two prefects, the two sixth years he had been looking for, and wordlessly he waved them over to one corner of the common room. They both looked at each other nervously before following him, and he had the impression that they knew exactly why he was here. Well, they knew what he expected of them and they knew that they had failed his expectations.

The moment they arrived the Potions Master got up privacy charms and then pointed at the sofa that stood there while he himself greeted them with a short "Mr. Flint, Miss Anderson" and then extended his hand towards the sofa, indicating that they should sit down while he himself sat onto the armchair. For a moment he had considered keeping standing behind the armchair, like he so often did, especially during a lecture, but he knew this only would get them more nervous. They were not in his office but in the Slytherin common room, this was their domain, this was the place where they should feel at home and safe.

So he sat down so he wouldn't tower over them.

He waited for a few moments, watching them with thoughtful dark eyes, while he considered his next words. He had to make clear that he was disappointed in them while at the same time he had to consider that Marcus was a rather unsure boy. Outwardly he never would show it, wore his mask perfectly, contraire to Katherine who was a rather emotional girl for a Slytherin and showed it, but underneath his mask Marcus was as unsure and as frightened as was Harry. The Gryffindors surely would die of a heart attack if they ever knew, he thought, as Marcus normally was the one that kicked their butts during Quidditch matches.

"Why do you think did I make you Slytherin's prefects?" He finally asked calmly, leaning his elbows onto his knees and steepling his fingers in front of his face, watching the two prefects calmly. There was a small pause during which both of his prefects exchanged worried looks before averting their eyes.

"Because you trusted that we would take the task seriously, sir." Marcus Flint finally answered, his voice unsure and low.

"And _did_ you take it seriously?" Severus asked, leaning back in his chair, his fingers still steepling in front of his lips.

"Yes, we did!" The boy answered in defence, looking angry for a moment before he sighed and looked aside. "Well, normally at least. Aside from last night we never lost a student."

"That is correct." The Slytherin head of house nodded at the boy. "What is the reason as to _why_ you still _are_ prefects. If my memory serves me correctly, then we have exercised some fire drills during last year. Am I correct?" He asked.

"Yes, sir." Marcus answered while Katherine simply nodded her head. "We have."

"Would you mind explaining to me what your duty is while acting upon an alarm? Any alarm?" He asked, ignoring the resigned sigh Marcus gave away. The boy knew very well why he was here and he knew what he had done wrong. Three of the Slytherin first years had gone missing last night during the troll-incident – the story had made its round throughout Hogwarts already.

"Well, we ensure that all the Slytherins leave the castle – or go down to the dungeons, to either the classroom or the Slytherin common room. One of us leads the way, followed by the seventh years, the sixth years, and so on down to the first years. The other prefect follows the first years and ensures that no one parts the group. The head boy and the head girl do not follow their houses but ensure that stray students too leave the castle or go to their respective common rooms." The boy explained, looking at his hands before he looked up at him.

"Once in safety both prefects ensure once again that every student of their houses is present and one of them reports to a teacher immediately if or if not while the other stays with his house." He continued. "I know that we should have ensured that Harry, Draco and Dursley did not leave the group even if it wasn't a clear alarm." He then said. "A troll in the castle is a dire situation similar to a fire alarm and we should have acted accordingly."

"Yes, you should have." Their head of house said, simply nodding at him. His voice didn't hold any accusation, only the simply fact. "You should have led the group into the common room while you, Katherine should have followed to ensure that the group stuck together. _If_ you had, you would have noticed that three students had left the group."

"I know, sir." The girl said, hanging her head. "I'm sorry for that."

"I do know that you are, Katherine." Severus said. "What does not change the fact that you have disappointed me by not acting to the responsibility that comes with your duty. You have acted irresponsible and three students could be dead by now."

"I know, sir." Came from Katherine, followed by an "I'm sorry, sir" from Marcus.

"Both of you will write an essay about your responsibilities as prefects." He said. "About what could have happened to the three wayward first years, what would have happened if they had died, and what you could have made differently. Three feet of parchment, handed in by tomorrow evening. Both of you will lose twenty-five house intern points and both of you will be banned from Hogsmead visits until the New Year, no exceptions. Added to this, both of you will serve detention with me for the duration of the same time too. During your detentions you will work with those three wayward students. Mr. Dursley has to learn what it means to live in the wizarding world and Mr. Snape has to learn working together with other people than with only Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, Draco, Theodore or me. Marcus, you will work together with Mr. Dursley on Mondays and with Mr. Snape on Fridays while you, Katherine will work with Mr. Snape on Mondays and with Mr. Dursley on Fridays. You will help them in their homework, in their understanding of the wizarding world, in social matters and in matters I will assign to you on later times. Concerning Mr. Malfoy, I will address you on a later time."

"But Mondays and Fridays are our only free evenings." Marcus said.

"Would you like me extending your detention to your Quidditch practice times too, Mr. Flint?" Severus calmly asked, lifting his eyebrow at the boy.

"Uhm, no, sir." Marcus quickly answered. "That won't be necessary."

"I thought so." Severus nodded his head. "You will start on Friday this week, both of you. That will be all, you are dismissed."

Lifting the privacy charms he nodded a wordless good by to them and then left the Slytherin common room after another quick glance over the students sitting in groups on the sofas in different corners, on the desks or in front of the fire. All of them quickly averted their eyes and he knew that they had been watching them, even if they hadn't been able to hear them, knowing that their prefects were in trouble.

He didn't address them over it but simply left through the portrait that guarded the common room. He would come back later as he always did, but right now he wanted to show his prefects that he was angry and he did so by leaving wordlessly.

Walking back to his quarters he briefly wondered if Harry might be alright and he remembered the last time he had left him alone while overlooking Weasley's detention. The child nearly had been back to his catatonic state the moment he had come back after detention two hours later and it had taken him nearly two hours more to get his son back to normal, if _'normal'_ was a term he ever could use when it came to Harry and he had cursed those blasted monsters named Dursleys over and over again in his mind, all the while reassuring the child that he was there, that he wouldn't abandon him.

But honestly, he couldn't place all his other duties aside.

As much as it pained himself, Harry would have to learn that he always would come back, never mind what. The boy had to learn that he wouldn't abandon him while he was away teaching, supervising detention or settling a problem in the common room. He just wasn't sure if the boy really would understand one day. Maybe the damage caused by the Dursleys simply was too deep.

With a worried sigh he murmured the password and opened the door to his private quarters, entering, hoping that he wouldn't find Harry in front of the fireplace and nearly catatonic or panicking again and he couldn't help his gaze wandering to the mantelpiece at once.

The rug in front of the fire was unoccupied and he nearly sighed a sigh of relief while his gaze wandered through his living area before a small smile threatened to tug on the corner of his lips.

There on the sofa lay Harry, his cloak he had thrown over the backrest this morning to take it to the bathroom for Zilly to pick up for the laundry cradled in his arms and clutched to his chest, his face hidden in the folds of the dark fabric, peacefully asleep and he lifted his eyebrow. Did the boy depend so deeply on him that he took his clothes to sleep with them? Surely old clothes didn't smell _that_ delicious that one would by free will sleep with them.

But then – they smelled of him, and if the boy actually depended on him that much, if he actually …

Blinking at the boy stupidly he wondered if maybe – just maybe – the boy might have started to see him …

The way the child reacted … a child would take a blanket or a pillow from his father's or mother's bed to sleep with it … a child would fear his parents might not want to have him around after being 'bad' … the way the boy testily leaned against him lately, as if fearing that he might be pushed away …

Going down onto one knee in front of the sofa he watched the still form, breathing evenly, the entire form relaxed, not the normal tense form that even in sleep never relaxed completely. He couldn't see the face, but the fingers held the fabric of his cloak loosely. The boy definitely was at peace in his sleep, a rare occurrence.

And honestly, if a cloak did the trick, then be it. He gladly would abandon this one for his child if it ensured a peaceful sleep, the boy still and too often had nightmares when sleeping.

Getting to his feet he carefully cradled the small form into his arms so he could sit onto the sofa himself and placing the boy's upper body halfway on his lap and halfway in his arms he run his other hand through the boy's black hair.

His son.

Again he barely could believe it.

Harry was his son. This child was his son. He had a son, he was a father.

Two months now had passed since the boy lived with him, it was two weeks now that he knew for sure that Harry was his son, but still he couldn't believe it sometimes. Still it felt so strange to him that he wondered if he simply was dreaming. If this truly was reality. He barely could believe it sometimes.

He was a father.

He – Severus Snape!

Would he do everything the right way? Would he be able to actually fulfil his role as a father? Would he be able to care for a child that was his own? Would he be able to … wouldn't he make a lot of mistakes? Would he be fit to be a father? It was one thing being a head of a house on a boarding school, but it was another thing being a father. It was one thing being responsible for fifty children that were not his own, but it was another thing being responsible for the wellbeing of a child that was his own son. Would …

Questions over questions and thoughts over thoughts crossed his mind, just like so often lately, but he couldn't find answers to them, he couldn't even feel answers to them, he …

The fire flared, getting him out of his musings, and with an angry scowl he turned towards the fireplace. It was a holiday and he didn't expect, nor did he wish for a visitor. The face however that greeted him sitting in the flames made his scowl disappear and he inclined his head towards the man, welcoming him over.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"You are looking so cute, dear Professor Snape." The man laughed lightly, dark eyes sparkling with mirth. "I should take a picture for Amelie."

"Don't you dare, my dear _friend_!" The Potions Master threatened. "And if you ever call me cute again, I swear, I will ban you from my quarters."

Herbaceous only laughed lightly, pointing towards the cabinet in the corner and Severus gave him a nod while huffing.

"Amelie asked me to say hello to the dour Potions Master." Herbaceous teased while unlocking the cabinet, taking two glasses and filling two fingers of Severus' good whiskey into one of them and three fingers into the other one. The first one he reached towards the Potions Master while he kept the other one and sat down into one of the armchairs.

"How is the boy doing, Severus?" He then asked, lowering his head to one side and gazing thoughtfully at the picture of the Potions Master cradling his son. "Amelie said it really is time you come over for a visit. She is dying to see your son for herself."

"Of course she is. She's waiting for an opportunity to mother him like she had done with me. Infuriating woman that she is!" He smirked at his friend. "It is an up and down." Severus then however answered seriously, taking a small sip of the whiskey before placing the glass onto the stand beside the sofa so he wouldn't have to lean forwards to reach the coffee table what only would wake the child in his arms. "But that had to be expected. Ten years of abuse cannot be undone by only two month. Generally spoken however, Harry is doing rather well."

"Hmm." Herbaceous smiled at him. "I'm glad to hear this. You maybe should get the boy a blanket however. The poor boy has to cover himself with your robes? How inconsiderate of you."

"Idiot." The Potions master growled. "I intended to take the cloak to the bathroom for Zilly to pick it up. What the boy sees in a used piece of cloth is beyond me. It smells of potions and sweat."

"It smells of you." The older wizard countered.

"It still would smell of me if it were washed." Severus shook his head. "If this it is however what Harry needs to have a peaceful sleep, then be it. It is a small price for the boy's peace of mind."

"You sound like a proud father, dear Severus." Herbaceous chuckled lightly.

"I _am_ proud of my son, you imbecile." The Potions Master growled. "He has come a long way in a short time. It is rather I who is the idiot sometimes."

"How so?" The owner of Eeyelop's asked curiously.

"As if I were used to being a father." Severus huffed. "Sometimes I do not know what the right curse of actions is, honestly. I only can do what my gut feeling tells me and that might not always be the right decision."

"And you think every father is perfect?" The older wizard shook his head. "You really are an idiot if you believe so. I know no parent that doesn't make a mistake from time to time. Just wait until the boy is in real trouble, my dear friend. It will happen sooner or later."

"It already _did_ happen." Severus growled, looking down at the boy and lightly running his fingers over the pale forehead.

"It did?" Herbaceous asked curiously, not able to really imagine the still so fragile boy being in trouble.

"It did." Severus simply answered, causing the other wizard to huff in annoyance.

"Care to enlighten me?" Herbaceous drawled in a rather Snape-ish manner, causing Severus to lift his eyebrow at him while huffing.

"Last night a troll entered the castle." He explained.

"A troll?" Severus' friend frowned and narrowed his eyes at the Potions Master. "How so? That shouldn't have happened."

"Of course it shouldn't have." Severus growled darkly. "I am sure that Quirrel let him in. That man is strange and I know he is up to something. I don't trust him. He hexed Harry badly just a few days ago. During defence class."

"That's strange." Herbaceous mused. "During a class. And no one noticed? But how did Harry get into trouble? Did he go hunting for a troll?"

"Indirectly – yes." Severus huffed. "The troll entered the castle during the Halloween feast and I told him to go with the other Slytherins to the Slytherin common room. On their way down he learned from others that a Gryffindor student was in a bathroom, apparently crying. And believing that he had to save the girl he went after her."

"So he didn't try to hunt the troll down." Herbaceous shrugged his shoulder.

"He might not have hunted the troll down, but he didn't obey my orders either. If he feared the troll might enter said bathroom, then he surely thought about the fact that they _might_ encounter the troll there. What they did in the end."

"He faced a troll – in a bathroom where barely is room for running and sidestepping – and lived to tell the tale?" Herbaceous gawked at him open mouthed before shaking his head.

"And took him down. He and Draco." Severus answered.

"So, Draco was with him? How are they getting along?"

"Rather well." Severus inclined his head, looking down at the still sleeping boy. "He visits his morning classes meanwhile and he does rather well. He has become – let me name it friends for lack of a better word with Draco, Theodore and Blaze. He surely does not trust them entirely and he still fears them to some point. But at the same time they are some kind of a safe haven within a sea of children that scare him."

"Sounds good." Herbaceous took another sip of his drink. "He needs friends, and from what I know about Draco, he is a good child generally spoken. He might have the wrong parents, but generally spoken the child is a good lad. However – what did you do?"

"I encouraged him to interact with them of course, what did you think?"

"Because of the troll, I mean, you dimwit!" Herbaceous growled darkly, casting a dark glare at the younger wizard.

"Ah – that you mean." Severus lifted his eyebrow at the other man, playing the innocent. "Well, I did what I always do in such a situation. They got a spanking. It's what I announced and I am known that I go through with what I announce."

"Was it really necessary?" Herbaceous asked, lowering his head to one side again and watching the Potions Master thoughtfully.

"It was what I thought necessary, yes." The Slytherin lifted his eyebrow at his friend. "They left the other Slytherins instead of addressing an older student or a prefect with their concerns. They went into that bathroom instead of going to the Slytherin common room like I ordered. They must have known that they _might_ meet the troll there if they feared for Granger. They at least knew that there _was_ a troll in the castle and that is enough for me. They have placed themselves in mortal danger, deliberately in my opinion and they needed a punishment they wouldn't forget anytime soon. They needed to know that what they have done was not only wrong but dangerous. They could be dead, all four of them."

"Four?" Herbaceous asked. "Who else were there beside Harry, Draco and that Gryffindor girl?"

"Dursley." Severus huffed. "Imagine. Dursley of all the Slytherins followed Harry and Draco because he was concerned about his cousin."

"That sounds as if the boy had changed." Herbaceous smiled, even if he looked surprised a bit. "Last time I knew the boy had hated Harry, had called him freak and had beaten him along with his father."

"The boy _has_ changed." Severus said, looking thoughtful for a moment. "I do not know why, but he actually tries to not only get along with the other Slytherins. He tries to gain my satisfaction and affection too and lately he really wants to apologize to Harry."

"I never understood why you forbade it in the first place, honestly, Severus." Herbaceous shook his head.

"Really?" The Slytherin asked. "First, Harry never would have been able to handle the situation. Second, I wanted Dursley as far away from Harry as possible until I could trust him that he would not harm him. And third, I wanted Dursley to think. I wanted the apology he would be ready to give one day being a sincere one, what surely wouldn't have been if he had apologized in the beginning only because it was expected of him. The boy needed time, as much as Harry. You know – in some way Dudley Dursley had been abused as well. They never beat him or starved him, but they never taught him reason either. That boy would have become a criminal rather soon, caught one day and imprisoned and honestly, the blame not only would have laid with the boy but with his parents too, because they never taught him anything else than how to beat and torture other children."

"You surely are right, Severus." Herbaceous nodded. "Does he see it the same way?"

"Meanwhile I think he starts seeing it the same way."

"And the Dursleys? I've read that they are imprisoned and waiting for their trial."

"They are." Severus confirmed. "The trial will start next week."

"Will Harry have to testify?" Herbaceous asked worriedly.

"Unfortunately – yes." The Potions Master looked down at the child again, worry etched into his face too. "I had hoped that Bones would be able to change the terms Fudge has set in motion with this trial. Regrettably she wasn't and Harry has to testify. I already have retained a lawyer and Poppy has sent him copies of Harry's medical file while I have copied some of my memories concerning Harry and the effects of his abuse."

"I do hope that everything will go well." Herbaceous sighed.

"As do I." The Potions Master answered, running his hand through his son's hair.

"Does Harry know about the trials next week?"

"Not yet." Severus answered. "I have planned on telling him tonight. It is a rather nice day and I have planned on taking him to the pitch today. He only once had been on a broom and that surely had not been much fun for him, as stupid as his actions had been back then. Mounting a broom without knowing how to fly. And in a condition that was far from being healthy and well. He nearly broke his neck when he fell."

"I see, your son is quite a handful." Herbaceous chuckled lightly. Of course that man would see it rather amusing.

"Indeed." Severus had to agree. "I however planned on taking him on a broom today before bringing the news of the trials upon him."

"Hmm." The older wizard made. "You are going the Slytherin way, even with your own son."

"Last I looked, I _was_ a Slytherin."

"Sure?" Herbaceous laughed, causing Harry to stir in his arms.

"As sure as you are an imbecile." The Potions Master growled. "Good morning, son." He then said, once more running his hand over boy's face that looked blearily at him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Brooms, talks and meeting the lawyer_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would be grateful if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	51. if you just smile

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Note:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added author's note:**

Here too I apologize for my long absence … but as some of you already have learned from my profile, real life had thrown me down an abyss from which I couldn't manage to climb up so quickly. I'm still not really up the hill, and neither is the situation under control yet, but I can say that with time I have found some ways to keep my son save by myself - somewhat at least - and I simply _had _to continue writing. My fingers just started to itch.

I will do my best to keep the stories updated regularly, but I won't promise to update as often as I had previously. There are just some days during which I am not even able to keep real life done properly. The story "I just wanted to ask" however, I won't update at all. I will not abandon it completely, but I will keep it at hold for now and I only can hope that everyone who has read the latest entry at my profile will understand why. I just can't bring myself writing about that subject in my current situation ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"Last I looked, I was a Slytherin." _

_"Sure?" Herbaceous laughed, causing Harry to stir in his arms._

_"As sure as you are an imbecile." The Potions Master growled. "Good morning, son." He then said, once more running his hand over boy's face that looked blearily at him._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter fifty****-one**

**If you just smile**

It hadn't been the first time that he was on a broom, but it definitely was the first time that he was on a broom without being scared. Last time he had been on a broom, he had been scared and this other boy, Longbottom, had been in danger. They, that was the Slytherin and the Gryffindor first years, had learned how to fly on a broom that day, and Longbottom had fallen off his broom.

Honestly, he didn't understand why his father always was so angry at the Gryffindor who seemed to be a nice boy, but he could understand that he was frustrated over the boy. Longbottom really was left handed with nearly everything, starting from riding a broom – what really wasn't everyone's thing, he had to admit _that _– over brewing potions, doing a correct transfiguration or remembering passwords. He had heard from others that Longbottom more than once had been sleeping outside the Gryffindor common room in the hallway because he had forgotten the password to his own common room.

What had been the reason as to why his grandmother had sent him a remembrall, which Draco had taken during their first flying lesson, and upon which action Weasley had become seeker to the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He knew that Marcus had asked Professor Snape for him, Harry, being on the Slytherin Quidditch team as seeker, because he "was talented on a broom" as Marcus had said, and because he was so small and light. And honestly, after today's flying with Professor Snape … well, he really liked flying. But surely he wouldn't be good enough for playing on the team. He never had been good enough for anything.

For a moment he wondered why Longbottom lived with his grandmother in the first place.

Was it because his parents too were dead? And was the other boy so shy and so left handed because he had been beaten and starved by his grandmother just like he had been by his aunt and uncle? But Longbottom didn't look starved. But he looked like he feared others too, just like him. Was the other boy called a freak too?

He didn't know.

And he didn't want to ask the other boy either. He knew how he would feel if anyone of the other students would find out about _his _aunt and uncle. Well, the Slytherins did - but that was another thing.

But flying today really had been sooooooo coooooool …

Professor Snape – _his father, damn_! – his father had taken him on his broom at first, in front of him, so he would be safe and couldn't fall until he had explained everything to him and until he had told him not to fly too high or too fast when on his own broom, and then he had accioed a second broom and had allowed him to fly on his own. And he even had said that Marcus and others on the team were allowed to fly with him.

But surely it wouldn't be so cool like flying with his father!

He didn't know if he liked this, that the others would fly with him, but he liked flying in the first place. He was free when flying, just as if he left all his worries and all of his doubts and fears behind and as if only joy and happiness were left.

Then they had been sitting in the garden together. He had learned the names of all the flowers and plants already during their past few visits to the back yard where the Pro… where his father had all his plants he needed for his potions. And he had recited them back to his father again today, explaining for which potion they were needed, and then his father had given him that light twitch of his lips that told him that he was pleased.

The Professor rarely smiled, that much he had learned rather soon, and he only smiled if they were alone. He never smiled during lessons. During lessons he looked angry and severe all the time. And he never smiled during meals in the great hall either. During meals he looked just like he did during classes. He always looked like this when being in the presence of others. And he didn't like this. He liked it more when he smiled.

Sometimes he smiled, even if Professor McGonagall was around, or Herbaceous, but never, _absolutely never_ in the presence of others. Just when they were alone, and even then it wasn't an outright smile either. It was rather – well, this twitching of his lips, as if he wanted to smile, but didn't want others to see that he smiled. He didn't understand why though.

The Professor was a very, very good man, never mind what others said, he didn't care.

When he had come to Hogwarts, he had been very sick, and even though he had tried to hide it, his head of house, his Professor, had sensed it and he had done nothing but to make sure that he got better. And on top of that his head of house was his father too, and he often comforted him.

Well, his uncle always had told him that freaks like him didn't deserve all the good things, like a father, like comfort, or like medicine that normal people got, or like food and a bed, or clothes and such things. But his Professor and Madam Pomfrey – even if he still feared her – had given him medicine. Well, potions actually, but they had made him feel better anyway and from what he had gathered from all their conversations he had with them, they would continue doing so. The Professor had given him clothes, a bed, even a _room_, and he never went hungry here.

So, for the first time in his short life he felt like there truly and really was someone who did care, about him, Harry.

And so he understood that the Professor was angry at his aunt and uncle.

He really did.

What however didn't change the fact that he didn't want to see them again, that he didn't want to …

Well, Professor Snape had explained it to him - why he had to go to the trial and why he would have to see them again. He would have to, so he could be safe from his uncle forever, so they never could do such things to him ever again, so they never could do such things to _any_ child ever again.

What however didn't change the fact that he still didn't want to see them again!

He dropped his quill on the desk he was sitting at and ran his hands through his hair. A few weeks ago it would have stood on end after running his hand through it, but now it was long enough so it wouldn't. It looked like the Professor's hair, just not so affected of all the potions fumes. But he liked it that way.

He just couldn't concentrate on the essay and he let his head fall forwards where it hit the table with a loud 'bang', his eyes closed and his teeth pressed together. He – just for good measure – added a few more bangs to that first one. Why had he to be present at the trial? Why? Why? Why?

He startled looked up when his last bang was cushioned by a pillow with words on them and he realized that his essay he had been writing on had been transfigured into said pillow and he looked over at the Potions Master that stood in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest like he so often did.

"Any troubles with your essay, Mr. Snape?" The older wizard drawled, and he sighed. He had learned meanwhile that the Professor's drawls not always were meant to hurt, or that they not always meant that the man was angry. Sometimes he did those drawls if he even were amused. And he seemed to be amused right now. So he sighed. It wasn't funny.

"I'm … I'm scared about Monday." He said, struggling against the lump that had risen in his throat, to no avail. He just couldn't even voice his fear out aloud. "I … I don't know … I don't know if I can face …"

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"I … I don't know … I don't know if I can face …" Harry trailed off and Severus frowned at the boy. He had known that his son had not taken the information about the trial and his required presence on court very well. He had told him during their outing earlier that day, on their way back to their quarters, and by the time they had arrived in the dungeons, Harry had worked himself into quite a state. He had curled his still so thin arms around his stomach in an effort to both make himself smaller and to stop their shaking – or simply to protect himself.

"Attorney Franklin and I will be right there next to you, child, all the time." He said, coming closer and sitting next to the boy, transfiguring the pillow back to the essay the child had been working on. "As will Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. They won't have a chance of coming anywhere near you and I also will have some calming potion with me, just in case you need it."

"But why … why do I have to tell … I mean … everyone will know then … and …"

"You have done nothing to feel guilty or ashamed about, Harry." He said, giving his son's shoulder a gentle and comforting squeeze. "Crimes have been committed against you by your aunt and uncle, not the other way round. It might be a harsh word, but _you _are the victim here. Those people must be punished for what they did to you, an innocent child."

"But … but I haven't been innocent …" The boy stated and Severus had to grit his teeth. After all this time the child still thought that he had deserved what his uncle had done to him. "And …"

"And those beatings have not been a punishment, Harry." He growled. "Tell me, what have you learned about punishments since you are here, child? What can serve as a punishment if you do something you shouldn't be doing?"

"Uhm … well … points taken. But … but uncle Vernon didn't … he didn't give or take points."

"He could have done so, even with only two children living in the house hold." The Potions Master said. "What else can serve as a punishment?"

"An essay to write." Harry said, glancing at the parchment in front of him, the essay he had to write as a punishment for lying and for 'hunting down a troll'. "Or … or detentions … or … or … a … or a …"

"Well?" Severus asked, frowning at the child. The child still was not able to voice the word 'spanking', how in Merlin's name did Bones or Franklin expect him voicing the words 'beating' or 'abuse'? How would he be able to admit that he had been starved? And beaten? And raped? And locked into a cupboard for days and days? And he would _have _to admit that, he would have to say that in front of the curt.

Well, the boy seemed to sense the same as his face changed into a mask of horror and then into a mask of panic, opening his mouth, closing it, opening it again before closing it once more – without anything close to a word coming out.

Sighing Severus looked down at his son, placing a hand onto his shoulder in what he hoped would be a reassuring gesture.

"Hush, Harry." He said, locking his eyes with the boy's. "Calm down. Take a deep breath and calm yourself. We will go through this together. You won't be alone with this, son. I promised you, I will be right beside you all the times, never mind what."

Harry looked at him, still startled, and still frightened, still so damn unsure that he would like doing nothing else than shielding his son from the upcoming trial, but then the boy looked at him, nodding, even if it was a hesitant nod and he knew, Harry would do anything to please him, out of fear he would let him down, he would lose him. This child would do anything to please him, out of the fact that he needed every single word of comfort, praise and pleasure he could get, for he never before had gotten them in his life – even if it meant that he had to pull through that blasted trial and to face his worst nightmares of the past.

"Will you accompany me to the Slytherin common room, Harry?" He asked to distract the boy from his momentarily fears. "It is time I make an appearance there for the evening.

He didn't know if Harry had seen through his attempt, nor could he be sure that it actually had worked, the boy was too good at hiding his true feelings for his liking, but his son nodded at him.

"Very well, after you, Mr. Snape." He said, extending his hand towards the door with a smirk on his face, trying to lighten the situation.

They walked together down the dungeon corridor, from their quarters towards the Slytherin common room, both in silence, thinking, Severus casting a few glances at the boy walking beside him. It had taken him weeks, but finally the child didn't walk slightly behind him anymore. He'd had to keep his hand on the boy's shoulder or on his upper arm to lead him so he would not walk behind him like a simple servant, but finally – he had managed and his son walked beside him – most of the times at least.

It was one step forward, one step closer for his son being a normal child, starting to heal, even if it was just one of so many steps the child would have to take.

They reached the wooden door to the Slytherin common room and upon being given the correct password, the portrait opened and Harry and Severus entered. Harry shyly stood there for a moment, searching the room for known faces. It wasn't the first time that he was in here, but still the amount of other children scared him.

Severus on the other hand too stood a moment in the doorway to survey his students, but his stance and his posture told of dignity and severity, strictness, and of sharp eyes that caught everything, just before he determinedly went over to the armchair he always was sitting in during the evenings, watching his son going over to the table Draco and Theodore were sitting at, slowly, hesitantly, as if he feared that he would be rejected by them, as if he feared that he wouldn't be welcomed here in his own common room.

He watched Draco making place for Harry and he watched Theodore smiling at Harry. The smaller boy however didn't seem to be set at ease so easily by their actions. He kept standing there, unsurely, visibly scared and tense, until Draco rolled his eyes and took hold of the sleeve of Harry's robe and simply pulled him down onto the bench he sat on, startling the smaller boy with his move.

The dark and tough man watching the children already anticipated a panic attack on Harry's side, but after a startled flinch his son dropped his eyes before glancing at Draco from behind his lowered eyelashes and giving the blond boy a shy smile. In his mind he nearly could hear the "sorry" his son murmured to Draco.

Crossing his legs and leaning back he took the potions journal from within a pocket of his robe and simply started reading. It was the last edition of 'Potions Monthly' and he couldn't help noticing that he didn't have the time to read it as quickly as he had been able to before Harry had entered his life. Before he had finished reading the journal within the week it had been delivered, but now he needed at least twice the time for finishing it.

Yet – he didn't really mind.  
Harry had given him so much, he never before would have thought it possible – and not only in all day life, in all the small things, but in potions, his passion, too. Harry was able to name him all the plants and all the herbs, all the other ingredients used in potions and he could tell him in which potions they were used too, what they caused if mixed together and which were dangerous.

The boy handled all those ingredients with a care he rarely had seen on a child so young. Normally the first years were rather …

"Professor Snape?"

Cormet Anshan's voice brought him out of his thoughts and he lowered the journal he hadn't read in anyway and looked up at the boy.

"Yes, Cormet?" He asked.

Cormet was a boy that didn't come from a Death Eater family but from a muggle one, a boy that was not abused and that was not neglected by his family, and on the first glance he seemed just a normal child. But he wasn't. None of them were.

Well, Cormet might be a child that never had seen abuse or neglect, but he wasn't a child that was easy to handle nevertheless. He was one of his six year students and he had been in trouble already after coming back to Hogwarts last year, after a summer he had been together with the wrong people.

"I … well, I just wanted … that is …"

"Sit down, Cormet." The Slytherin head of house waved his hand at the armchair that stood beside the one he sat in. "Now, what troubles you?"

"I … well … I wanted to give you this." The boy finally said, reaching a small pouch at the Potions Master, his eyes fixed on the ground and pale cheeks shaded with the soft red of embarrassment.

"I see." Severus seriously answered. He didn't have to look inside the pouch to know what was inside. "And how did this get into your hands this time?"

"Well, the same way than last year." Cormet quietly said. "But I haven't … well, I haven't used it this time." He quickly added, looking up, into the dark eyes of his head of house, nearly pleadingly, begging the man to believe him.

"I am glad to hear this, Cormet." Severus seriously said, not a hint of anger or disappointment in his voice. "What made you change your mind?"

"Well … what you said before the holidays." The boy answered, averting his eyes again. "You said … you said I could keep from taking it. And you said you trusted me. And I didn't … well … I didn't want to disappoint you." The last part was said in nearly a whisper.

"So, why did you keep this for so long?" Severus asked, his eyes still on his six year student. "I do understand that you have not been able to say no to your – _friends_ – directly, as you fear them. But why didn't you give it to me immediately upon being back at Hogwarts?"

"I … well, I wanted to know if I really could … if I really could keep from using it while I had it."

Severus slowly nodded, his eyes still thoughtfully at the boy. He had told Cormet that he trusted him, and to some extend he did. But he couldn't be sure that the teen hadn't used the drugs at all anyway. It wasn't the first time that he actually _had_ used them in the first place. Upon his return at Hogwarts last year the boy had been on those drugs after all – and it hadn't been easy to get the boy off them back then.

But as the Potions Master he was, he could see that Cormet hadn't used them for at least three months – and if he hadn't used them for the last three months, then the chance that he had used them earlier during the holidays – were minimal. He wouldn't have been able to get off them alone. So the boy's word was enough for him and he nodded once more.

"A reasoning that is comprehensible." He seriously said. "And I do understand your reasoning. But what would have happened if you wouldn't have been able to resist? What if you would have taken them again? You wouldn't have been able to handle the situation alone and you wouldn't have dared to ask for my help again. We would have been back at last year."

**Flashback**

_"Mr. Anshan, follow me please." The Potions Master and h__ead of Slytherin said, his serious dark eyes narrowed at the boy that sat in one of the armchairs near the fireplace. He pierced the boy for a moment longer with his stern gaze, but then he turned with a snap of his robes and left the Slytherin common room._

_He had been there for his usual evening visit, watching all the students close. It was the first week into the new term and already during the past three evenings he had noticed that something with Cormet Anshan was quite not as it should be. The boy was strange. He had seemed to be fine, but he had known that there had been something wrong __nevertheless during the past days. He had been a bit too overexcited, a bit too overactive and a bit too … too happy, for lack of a better word. _

_He didn't mind his students being happy and having fun, but the display from Cormet had been – off his normal behaviour. He had waited and watched, knowing that maybe the boy just had had a good time, or that he'd had good holidays. But then he had noticed the changes, at one point the boy was being so overly happy that it nearly seemed unnatural and the next moment the boy was being nearly depressive. And right now the boy seemed ill, pale, his eyes dull and a fine film of perspiration covering his face, his hands trembling._

_He didn't have much experience with drugs, and surely not with muggle drugs, but he was a Potions Master, for Merlin's sake, and he knew that they existed, he knew what they were composed of and he knew what they did. And to him it suddenly was clear that the boy was on those muggle drugs. _

_With a quick and brisk wave of his hand, a nearly angry one, he threw the door to his office open and he entered, waiting for his fifth year student to follow him before he closed the door and then turned to face the boy._

_"Sit!" He ordered, pointing at the chair standing in front of his desk, his anger rising from second to second while he himself leaned against the desk, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Is there something you would like to tell me, Mr. Anshan?" He then asked with a dark growl. "Anything at all?"_

_"Uhm … no … not really, sir." The boy answered._

_"No?" He asked, his eyes cold on the boy in front of him before he stepped closer. "Nothing at all?" He continued, his voice still a cold drawl, running his hand over the boy's forehead. "A pale face, cold sweat, dull eyes." He said, taking the boy's chin between his fingers and turning his face towards him with a firm grip. _

_"Trembling hands and fingers." He continued drawling in his cold voice, gripping the boy's wrist in a rough grasp and holding it up for Cormet to look at. "A heart beating as furiously as if racing a mile per minute, and a shallow and too quick breathing as if you feared suffocating?" With an angry glare he released the boy's wrist. "And you still have nothing to tell me?__ Nothing at all?"_

_"Uhm … no …"_

_"Care to explain to me then – as to why you are feeling the effects of a withdrawal __from drugs?" He asked. "Right now you have two choices, Mr. Anshan. You either can tell me by free will which drugs exactly you have consumed, or I simply will cast a diagnostic spell. You have a minute and not a second longer." He said, casting a tempus, watching the boy who watched the seconds ticking down._

**End flashback**

Well, he'd actually _had_ to cast a diagnostic spell as Cormet had not been ready – or able – to give him an answer, and he soon had known which drugs exactly the boy had consumed. He had taken the boy to his private quarters, had taken his leave from teaching for an indefinite time and he had gone a long way with the boy until he had been clean.

At the end of last term he had taken the boy aside and he had talked to him before he had released him into the holidays with an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. He had not taken the boy aside at the beginning of this term, wanting to show him that he trusted him, but he had watched him close since September the first, and he had not seen any signs of the use of drugs. So he simply had waited, knowing that the boy would address him sooner or later.

"I know, really." The teenager said. "I have thought of the risks, but I just had to know."

"Understandable." The Slytherin head of house answered, forcing his thoughts back to the here and now. "But next time you want to carry out an experiment such as this, you maybe better ask for my help beforehand. I would have been able to watch you while you had those drugs."

"It wouldn't have been the same, sir." Cormet quietly answered.

"No, it probably wouldn't." Severus admitted, inclining his head. "I however do acknowledge your efforts and I do acknowledge your success. And I furthermore do thank you that you have given those drugs to me now. I am proud of you, do not mistake me on this. It is not easy to withstand the temptation those drugs are offering, especially not if doing so alone. I _am_ proud of you, very proud. You have proved to me that our efforts and our hard work we went through last year, that our discussions and my trust on you have not been in vain."

He cast his wand over the envelope and simply banished the drugs. He didn't ask for permission from his student. The boy had known that he would do just this and with giving him the small pouch he had given his permission automatically. Not that Severus would have minded in the first place. He would have done so last year if the boy had had any drugs left back then and he would do so again with any drugs he found with his students.

"You have gained yourself the freedom to visit Hogsmead again, Cormet." He said.

He had banned the student from outings to Hogsmead last year after the incident with the drugs, after he had found out and had fought together with the teen to get him clean. He had been cold back then, knowing that kindness would get the boy nowhere, and he had been stern back then, knowing that he had to keep the upper hand of the situation. It hadn't been easy, but they had managed to pull through this and he was proud of the boy that he had kept his promise, that he had withstood the temptation.

"I have promised you that I would take you to a trip to the mountains if you managed, and I do stand to my word, Cormet. Next week on Monday my son has to testify at the trial against his relatives and I do not know what that will do to him. So I can tell you for sure that I won't be able to take you until the end of the month, but I have not forgotten my promise and I will take you to the mountains as soon as I can be sure that Harry is alright after that blasted trial."

"You never have an easy time with us, have you?" Cormet asked shyly.

"Surely not, Mr. Anshan." Severus huffed at the boy, but then his eyes went warm. "But that is the reason I am here, isn't it? As inept, incompetent, impossible, insufferable, intolerable, insolent, impertinent, idiotic and as silly, stupid and dim witted – as _hopeless_ as all of you are, I actually do love you – sometimes at least – and I do care for you – always."

"I know …" The boy mumbled under his breath, not looking at him but the carpet beneath his feet that seemed very interesting at the moment. "Thank you …"

"You are welcome, Mr. Anshan. And now I do believe that you have a charms essay for Professor Flitwick to be handed in by tomorrow morning." He said with his eyebrow raised.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Oh, oh!" George Weasley made, looking up at the head table.

"What's wrong, George?" Fred Weasley asked, looking at his twin brother.

"Our dear Potions Master seems to be in a particularly bad mood today." George answered and Fred followed his brother's gaze towards the head table, looking at the Slytherin head of house who cast angry and disappointed gazes towards the table his students sat at, the Slytherin table.

They too looked over at this particular table, trying to find out what was wrong, but it took them a few moments until they noticed that Snape's son wasn't present for lunch.

"Snape junior isn't there." George whispered.

"I can see that." Fred shook his head. "But that surely isn't a reason for Snape senior to look so angry.

"Not really." George admitted.

"Oh oh …"

"He's getting up …"

"He's going down to Malfoy …"

"Let's cast the auditio potior …"

"Audatio potior."

"Mr. Malfoy?" They heard the Potions Master's rather cold drawl.

"Oh, oh … he really is angry …"

"He never calls Malfoy Malfoy …"

"You do not – just by accident – happen to know where Mr. Snape is keeping himself at the present time?"

"No, sir, I'm sorry." Malfoy answered.

"That's strange …"

"Malfoy not knowing where Snape is …"

"They're bosom bodies …"

"Care to tell me when and where had been the last time you have seen Mr. Snape?"

"I guess there's someone in trouble …"

"Imagine, you're Snape's son and in trouble …"

"In the common room, sir." Draco answered. "We talked about the trial of his aunt and uncle tomorrow, and then Harry ran off. He didn't say where he would go and I couldn't follow him, I just lost him and couldn't find him anymore."

"Trial against Snape junior's relatives?"

"He looks worried …"

"Slightly …"

"If you happen to stumble over my son, Mr. Malfoy, then please do me the favour and tell him that his father happens to wish speaking to him – in his office and _immediately_!"

"Yes, sir." Malfoy answered and Fred and George could see him gulping nervously.

"Yes …" One of the twins said, slowly nodding his head.

"In trouble …" The other twin answered, taking a deep breath.

"Indeed …" A deep and velvet voice behind them drawled and with a startled yelp both twins turned their heads to look directly into the dark eyes of one Severus Snape. "Detention, Mr. and Mr. Weasley, as soon as I have the time to overlook a week long detention with the two of you. And if I catch you on listening to a private conversation once again, I can promise you, it won't be a week only."

They watched Snape turning sharply, hurriedly striding down the great hall towards the double winged doors, his cloak billowing behind him dramatically.

"Why is it that he always catches us at the inappropriate moments?"

"I don't know, it's just as if he had a spell on us."

"Maybe he has?"

"But if, then why?"

"Well, maybe he likes us?"

"Uhm … better not, George." Fred answered, horror written all over his face. "It would be the same as for Snape being Snape's son. It's bad enough having him as a teacher, but if he liked us and we'd be in trouble, his anger would be tenfold. As would his punishment."

"You're right." George shuddered. "Better never be involved in any relationship with Severus Snape, dungeons bat of Hogwarts."

"I heard that, Misters Weasley." A paper appeared in front of them, words written in Snape's spidery handwriting on it. "And it just _might_ be that your guess is a right one. So you better beware of the dungeons bat."

"Merlin's pants!"

"Merlin's shorts!"

"I am sure that Merlin would not be pleased over his underwear being discussed, Misters Weasley. You have just managed to enlarge your detention."

"He just wants to have us around him." George whispered into Fred's ear as quietly as possible while Fred just nodded at him silently.

"Indeed." Appeared on the parchment.

No one saw Severus Snape, dark and tough Potions Master of Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry turning into the corridor that would lead him to his office in the dungeon, an evil smirk on his face for a moment, just before it turned worried once more.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus glanced up at Harry for a brief moment before returning to the essay he currently was grading.

"Sit, Harry." He said, pointing the quill he held in his hand towards the chair in front of his desk. He was almost finished with this one, Ronald Weasley's, covering it with red ink that overlaid nearly all of the black scribbles the blasted boy had managed, and so he went ahead and nodded at Harry.

It was strange how different the Weasleys were. Charley and William Weasley had been talented with potions and they had been – _bearable_, as painful as this thought was to him. Percival Weasley however was a show-off and a thick headed idiot who showed neither interest not talent in potions and only tried to get the teachers' attention and approval while reporting each and every student for each and every nonsense gewgaw.

George and Frederic Weasley were talented with potions too and they too were – _bearable_ – he had to admit, even if they bordered on driving him mad with their jokes and pranks. But at least they did them with responsibility and their pranks were well thought through, they always made sure that no one got hurt.

Whereupon Ronald Weasley was as miserable when it came to potions as was Percival Weasley, the younger Weasley boy was slow, stupid, lazy, and he seemed to be some kind of a bully. He seemed to like watching other children being in trouble or suffering, the incident with Harry during his first potions class had been proof of that.

And if he dared going on in his line of thoughts – two of the Weasleys being bearable, one being unbearable, two being bearable again, one being unbearable again - well, then it would be interesting having the youngest Weasley family member at Hogwarts, Ginevra Weasley, the only girl in the family aside from their mother.

Once he was done with covering that one particular essay into his red ink to his satisfaction and once Harry was settled on the chair in front of his desk, Severus set his work aside and relaxed back into his chair to study his son intently, noticing the boy's fidgeting, noticing the red eyes which indicated that he had cried.

"You were not in the great hall for dinner." He simply said. "Why?"

"I …" The boy started, averting his eyes. "I have been in the library."

"While it is a place I am amenable with you being there, I nevertheless remember having informed you that you had to attend each meal. Am I correct, Harry?"

"Yes, sir." The boy whispered.

"So, care to tell my why you have not?"

"I just … I was upset." The boy answered, still not looking at him, gripping the sleeve of his robe with his fingers and running it over his eyes. Severus could see that the child had been crying earlier too and with a sigh he got up from his chair and went around the desk. He got down onto one knee in front of his son and gently he reached out, pulled the boy's arm from his eyes to brush away the tears that had started to fall with his own thumb.

"You have been worried over the trial again, were you not?" He quietly asked. He wouldn't have needed the nod of the boy's head to know that he was right and pulling the boy into his arms Severus carded the fingers of his other hand soothingly through his son's dark hair.

"I will repeat it a thousand times, if I have to." He said. "You won't be alone. I will be right beside you all the time. I will not leave you alone in this."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus looked over at his son, where the boy was laying on the soft rug in his usual place by the bookcase, reading one of the fairy-tale books he had placed there, in one of the lower shelves, for the boy. He barely could believe how quickly he had gotten used to the child's presence in his quarters, in his life.

Though Harry still rarely spoke, he was by no means really silence.

Whenever he did his school work, the scratching of his quill could be heard on his parchment, whenever he simply sat there reading, pages could be heard turning, and even if he was only daydreaming, soft puffs of air could be heard whenever the boy blew his hair out of his eyes.

Sometimes he wondered if he should cut his son's hair a bit, but he was unsure about how the boy would react to that. The boy's aunt had tortured the child enough with what had been her sense of a haircut.

During meals there was the soft scratching of a fork or a knife over the plate, even if Harry tried to show what he had learned of table manners meanwhile, and even whenever the boy slept there was the soft breathing and Severus often sat beside the sofa or the bed and just watched his son laying there, listening to the child's breathing, this particular sound strangely soothing and calming him.

This night when Harry went to sleep he sat down on the end of the bed as Harry drew his knees up to his chest in his customary guarded position, wrapping his arms tightly around them.

"What if …" The boy started, his voice a desperate whisper. "What if all of them … what if all of them will see how bad I am? What if all of them see … how weak I am? Not being able to defend myself against a muggle? What if … what if all of them will see that I … that I deserved …"

"Stop it right there, son!" He said, interrupting the boy. He leaned closer to his son, taking his child's hands in his own. "First, you are not weak! That man had you so brainwashed, that you wouldn't have been able to even try and fight against him if you had been able to. You are however only an eleven year old child, a child, a helpless and a small child and you never would have been able to defend yourself against a grown man, muggle or wizard, that was your guardian and had you under his control. Second, you are not bad. You are here since more than two months now, you know that I am not an easy taskmaster. I am a severe man and I am not easy to please, I do know that. But during all your stay you have not disappointed me overly, in the contrary. I am very pleased with you so far and I am actually proud of you. So believe me if I say that you are not bad, Mr. Snape. And third, you did not deserve what your uncle did to you, neither being beaten, nor being starved, and surely not being raped. You did nothing, absolutely nothing, to deserve those things. No child, no matter how disobedient a child is, deserves such. Do you understand? It was not your fault, do you understand?"

He took one look at the tearful eyes of his child, and then pulled the slight youth over to sit on his lap as he held him, running his long fingers through Harry's hair.

It took only a few moments, but then the child started shaking with his usual silent sobs, followed by burying his head in his father's shoulder while clutching the man's robes tightly in his small fists. Harry had cried before, but seldom like this, with such heart breaking and still silent sobs that caused the normally so cold and hard Potions Master to clench his eyes close to keep from losing his own composure.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus however started worrying for real the next morning when he realized then Harry was not speaking to him at all.

The child arrived to the breakfast table coming from the shower directly, his hair dripping wet and Severus, tilting his head to one side while narrowing his eyes at his child, watching him close, asked him if he had used a towel at all. But Harry only shrugged his shoulders and shook his head a little, sitting down at the table.

There was no smile and there was no comment.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_The trial – I think there isn't anymore to announce here._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would be grateful if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	52. we will go through this together

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Severus however started worrying for real the next morning when he realized __that Harry was not speaking to him at all._

_The child arrived to the breakfast table coming from the shower directly, his hair dripping wet and Severus, tilting his head to one side while narrowing his eyes at the boy, watching him close, asked him if he had used a towel at all. But Harry only shrugged his shoulders and shook his head a little, sitting down at the table. There was no smile and there was no comment._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter fifty****-two**

**We will go through this together**

Harry still didn't understand why he had to testify at the trial. Well – yes, he _did_ understand. He just didn't _want_ to understand, because he didn't want to testify in the first place. He didn't want to face his aunt and uncle again. And he didn't understand why he had to. It hadn't been a big deal, really. He just had been supposed to be quiet, to do his chores and to keep himself out of the way, from making a fuss or from being seen at all.

That he had gotten all those beatings, and that he had gotten so little to eat, well, all of that only had been his punishments for all the freakish things he had done. And uncle Vernon would _not _beat any other children, because no other child would be so freakish or so bad as he had been. So – there really was no need to testify on this trial at all.

Severus Snape at the same time watched the boy slowly retreating into his room to get ready for the trial, to have a shower and then to dress into the clothes he had laid out on the boy's bed for the trial today. Harry seemed to be reluctant, frightened even, and he knew that he only did as he was told because he feared being disobedient, that he only agreed to testifying at the trial because he feared that he, Severus, would be disappointed if he didn't.

They were back to step one, as it seemed.

He knew, and he could understand that his son feared seeing his aunt and uncle again, and if he could have changed it, then he would have done so – but he hadn't been able to avoid this.

He tried to picture Petunia Evens, now Dursley, in his mind. He hadn't seen her for a long time. Last time he had seen her had been somewhat about thirteen or fourteen years ago when Lily had dragged him to her sister and zhat whale of a husband for dinner and it hadn't been a very pleasant evening.

Petunia Dursley always had been jealous about Lily and her being a witch, even back then when they had been children, when he had told Lily that she was a witch, when he had shown the girl what she could do with her magic. But after Petunia had written a letter to Dumbledore, demanding that she too was accepted at Hogwarts, and Dumbledore had refused, after seeming to accept that she never would be a witch, she had taken to sneering at Hogwarts and the wizarding world for its littleness and limited opportunities, not realizing that the wizarding world had gotten Lily more freedom, more comfort and more life than the muggle world ever could have provided her with.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business." A female voice asked after they had entered the small, red telephone box and the Potions Master had taken the receiver and dialled a number. For a moment Harry had wondered if he should inform his father that he would have to hold the receiver to his ear, but then the voice answered and he actually was too startled to give any signs away. He just was scared, tried to keep as close to the Professor as possible, pressing his back against the man's stomach. He had become more and more frightened since they had left the castle and somehow he knew that they had reached their destiny, that here he would have to face his aunt and uncle.

"Severus Tobias Snape and Harry Severus Snape, tribunal witnesses in the trial of Vernon and Petunia Dursley nee Evans." Severus calmly responded, knowing well how the boy felt and placing a calming hand onto his son's shoulder to give as much comfort as possible.

"Thank you. Please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes." The female voice answered and Harry watched as two small metal coins rolled out of the change slot. Severus pinned one to the front of his robes and handed the other to Harry.

Harry, seeing that his badge read 'Harry Severus Snape, witness', tried to pin the badge to the front of his robe just as Professor Snape had done with his, but his hands just trembled too much and after a moment the Potions Master gently took the badge from his hands and pinned it to his robe while the telephone box started to move, startling him again.

Soon it stopped and Severus ushered the boy outside, into the gigantic front hall of the ministry where attorney Franklin already awaited them together with Poppy and Minerva.

"Mr. Franklin." Severus greeted the attorney. "Poppy, Minerva."

He didn't say anything else, his nerves nearly as strained as the boy's that clung with both his small hands to his arm like a leech and together they started walking after the others had greeted back. Minerva and Poppy casting worried glances at Harry from time to time while they walked further into the hall, Severus all the while keeping his hand on his son's shoulder, knowing the boy needed this physical contact right now.

When they finally had reached the guard desk where their wands were weighed and registered the boy nearly had managed to slip underneath his, Severus', cloak and he actually had to take the wand from the inside pocket of the child's robe to hand it over to the guard who looked at him suspiciously.

"You know, Professor Snape, there's really no need to frighten the boy so badly." The young man which he recognized as a former Gryffindor shook his head, throwing a pitying look at Harry. "I didn't think you'ld be as bad tempered towards your own son as you're towards your students."

Severus just sneered at the young man, his eyes going cold.

"The trial will be held – where?" He asked, not wanting to make a scene right now, not wanting to frighten Harry more as he already was. He would have a go on this one later. Yet – he noticed the disappointed look Minerva threw at the guard and he nearly smirked evilly at the nervous gulp the young man gave away.

"Courtroom seven, Professor." The guard replied. "It's scheduled to start in half an hour and the trial is off the record. Only the announced witnesses and the representatives of the wizarding houses are allowed."

Severus nodded coldly at him.

So, Amelia Bones at least had managed to have a closed trial, that was something, the boy would not have to face the entire wizarding world with this then and sighing, knowing that it simply was necessary, Severus led their little gang onto an elevator and pressed the button for the lowest level.

He noticed Harry being in a mixture of plain fear and amazement, fear of the upcoming trial he would have to face in a few minutes, and amazement at the paper airplanes that buzzed around the ceiling lamp like moths around a street lamp, entering and exiting on their own whenever they stopped at various floors. He however noticed that the fear definitely held the upper hand, the boy unable to take in everything the ministry of magic showed, and he tried to divert him with explaining that they were memos.

"They had owls for those memos, until a few years ago." Franklin tried to lighten the boy's mood. "But they had to come up with something else. Can you imagine the mess they made, Harry?"

Well, if the attorney had expected an answer from the boy, he definitely was wrong, because the boy only turned and hid his face in his, Severus', robes, leaving the man blinking stupidly at him.

"He won't talk if that is what you are waiting for Mr. Franklin." Severus calmly said. "Harry does not talk to anyone – again."

Minerva's face became grim at his words and Poppy gave a frustrated sigh. As it seemed, she had expected such because she didn't seem to be really surprised.

"But how ..." The attorney asked, blinking at him in confusion and something else he didn't quite recognize.

"Harry has other means of cominucation, Mr. Franklin." He said calmly while gently carding his hand through the boy's hair.

Soon they had reached level eleven and Severus turned the boy who still had his face hidden in his robes. Upon facing the long corridor in front of them however, the boy shook his head and the slight tremors that had gripped him since arriving at the ministry doubled. He actually had to shove the boy out of the elevator, knowing how petrified Harry was upon having to face his uncle again and he wondered what threats the man had used to keep him quiet.

He had to physically shove the reluctant child along the corridor and the moment they entered he had to increase the grip he had on his son's shoulder while quietly giving words of encouragement, assuring the boy that he wouldn't be alone in this, that they would go through this together.

They walked along the isle and he noticed that the witnesses, the attorneys, the ministry court, the wizengamot – including Dumbledore – and the representatives from the wizarding houses, including Lucius Malfoy, were already present as well as the school governors – and the Dursleys who protested and growled at the boy loudly until they were reminded to be silent by their council for the defense.

Harry himself was a mess the moment they finally reached their seats.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"We are gathered here for the trial of Vernon Dursley and Petunia Jasmine Dursley nee Evans in the matter of the neglect, abuse, rape and attempted murder of the minor Harry Severus Snape, previously known as Harry James Potter. Amelia Bones for the presidency of the magical law enforcement, Antony Anton for the secretary of the court, Gordon Winterbottom for the defence of the accused and Andrew Franklin for the defence of the victim. We at first call Severus Tobias Snape into the witness stand."

With a frown Severus leaned over to Franklin, whispering something into his ear and immediately Franklin got off his chair.

"Professor Snape asks to give his testimony from his seat as he does not wish to leave his son who is already frightened enough, alone." He said into the direction of the court.

"We, the defence, object to this." Winterbottom got to his feet as well, addressing the court. "The Professor will have to bend to the rules of this court as well as does everyone else."

Amelia Bones cast a questioning glance towards Franklin and upon the man's headshake she gave a court nod.

"The objection is rejected." She calmly said and Winterbottom as well as Franklin sat back into their chairs. "It is a child we are speaking here of and said child has been through enough already. Professor Snape may give his testimony from his seat."

Severus nodded relieved and after testing the veritaserum, noticing that it indeed came from his own stocks, he accepted the required three drops of the truth serum.

"Well, Professor Snape." Antony Anton, the court questioner, started. "If you just describe the circumstances during which you have learned about Harry's abuse."

"Harry had arrived Hogwarts at September the first and was sorted into the house of Slytherin." Severus answered truthfully. Not that he could have answered otherwise, being under the effects of the veritaserum, but he wouldn't however have told anything different anyway. "I soon noticed that something with the boy was wrong and questioned him in my office. I learned that he neither was able to speak nor to use sign language or to write. Upon an examination by Poppy Pomfrey, the school nurse, we discovered a lot of bruises, welts, cuts, burns and broken bones Harry suffered from, not to mention that he was dangerously malnourished to a point where even his growth had been affected."

"How did you learn of Vernon Dursley being the one who had beaten the child?" Antony Anton asked and for a moment Severus honestly wasn't sure how to respond, feeling a fresh wave of anger and fury at the memory and for a second it almost got the better of him. but then he noticed that Harry was leaning against his side, looking at him and there was so much fear in the child's green eyes that he forced himself back to calmness.

"I used the cogitatio legere on Harry so I would be able to communicate with him at all and during this – _conversation_ – he suffered from a mental breakdown, showing me his memories in his panic while he himself had not been able to keep up a clear thought at that moment."

"The court might notice the memories that already had been given by Professor Snape." Antony Anton stated before continuing. "The medical reports from Madam Pomfrey state that Harry had been healed as best as possible and that he had been released into your care. Would you say that he has improved since then?"

"Yes, I definitely would say that he has improved." Severus answered. "Considering that in the beginning Harry did not even know how to play, how to use a bed, that he had not been able to eat without being ordered to, not to mention a full meal, and that he had not been able to accept anyone near him at all without getting into a panic attack."

"You have discovered that Harry is your son throughout the time he has been in your care." Antony Anton continued. "Would you say that this changed anything?"

"It definitely changed the relationship between Harry and me from a teacher/student relationship to a father/son relationship and yes, the bond is already stabilized. It has however changed nothing concerning Harry's health, and neither will it as Madam Pomfrey surely will be able to affirm."

"Would you say that young Harry would have had a chance of survival, if he had not come to Hogwarts?"

At this question Severus nearly gave a bitter laugh.

"Definitely - no." He then answered. "He would not even have seen his next winter. He would have survived a few weeks more, two or three weeks maybe, but surely not even a month. I have not even been sure if we would be able to safe his life at all during the first few days and I still wonder how we have managed this. Harry nearly died during the hours Madam Pomfrey and I healed his body."

"One last question, Professor Snape." Antony Anton said after a moment of pause that allowed the court to take in the Potions Master's words. "Will the child suffer from lasting damage caused by the abuse he had gone through at the hands of the accused, Vernon and Petunia Jasmine Dursley?"

"Definitely." Severus answered, taking a deep breath. "He still needs exersices for his bones, muscles, sinews and joints and he still needs potions like nutrient potions, pain reliever or calming potions. Not to mention stomach easing potions so he is able to eat anything at all without cramping or throwing up, not that he would be able to eat a normal amount of food in the first place. He still is unable to sleep as much as his health would require and he still freezes too easily because of this lack of healthy food and sleep. He still has relapses concerning his mental speaking disorder whenever he is scared beyond of what he can handle and of his general insecurity we do not even have to discuss I think. The scars on his body definitely will stay forever, as will the scars on his mind, his soul and his core. His bones and sinews won't catch up what they had missed, what means that Harry always will be smaller than other boys his age. The same goes for his muscles, his lungs and some other organs what will make him weaker and prone to illnesses. If the other difficulties will ease with time I cannot say yet but I highly doubt that the child ever will be able to have a normal life without pain, tiredness, nightmares and insecurities."

"Thank you, Professor Snape, that will be all for now." Antony Anton said. "We will now continue with the questioning of Madam Poppy Pomfrey, the school nurse of Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. If you may step into the stand, please, Madam Pomfrey?"

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

It had been nearly eleven when Severus had asked Franklin to apply for for a break. The trembling from Harry who had pressed himself close to his side had increased and the boy simply had been close to a breakdown by then. All that had been said in the trial so far had awakened memories that were fresh enough to tear the barely healed wounds on the still so fragile child's mind open again, to bleed and to hurt, and the Potions Master had known that the boy already had been beyond his limits.

And now they were back in the courtroom and now it was Harry's place to give his testimony. He had – again – asked Franklin to apply for Harry being allowed to give his testimony from their seats, but again Winterbottom had objected to this, declaring that Harry Potter, child or not, was the key witness after all, that they, the defense, could understand, but that it would be necessary for the boy to step into the stand.

Amelia Bones had cast a another questioning gaze at Franklin and the attorney had agreed.

Frowning Lucius watched Franklin retreating and giving in to the defense, and he took a deep breath. How could this idiot recede so quickly? He easily could have argued that the boy's health, physically as well as mentally, would not allow such, that the boy needed to stay with his father. What kind of attorney was this Franklin?

Severus inwardly was seething. He explicitly had made himself clear towards Franklin. He didn't want Harry stepping into the stands.

Getting off his seat he placed a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder and upon his nod the boy too stood, allowing him to lead him to the stand.

"We, the defence, object." Winterbottom immediately called out, getting to his feet again. "Harry Potter is called to the stand and not Professor Snape."

Severus, noticing the boy starting to try and break away in his panic tightened the grip he had on Harry's shoulder and finally losing his temper he turned towards Amelia Bones.

"Harry will go nowhere without me." He simply said. "He is still a child, and a child that should not be here in the first place, not to mention that his name is not Harry Potter anymore but Harry Severus Snape. He is my son by blood _and_ adoption and I, as his legal representative, will not allow him in the stand alone."

"I allow Professor Snape in the stand with his son." Amelia Bones announced the moment Winterbottom wanted to say something and the small and sturdy man in his grey suit sat down with a sour expression on his face. "I however do remind you, Professor, that it is not your place to take such actions and to address the court. I will let it slip as your argument is reasonable and I do agree with you. The child should not be here in the first place and he needs his father at his side."

Severus could feel the boy struggling with himself underneath his grip on Harry's shoulder. His son on one hand wanted nothing else than to run away and to hide, while on the other hand he was too scared of doing just this, too scared of disobeying and he almost stumbled on his steps to the stand, his breath becoming ragged and uneven, his trembling worsening and his body stiffening.

"Do not allow your fear to overtake you, Harry." Severus whispered, trying to sooth the boy. "I am right next to you, as I promised. You can get through this. Just keep taking another step until you are there and I promise, I will be there with you. We will go through this together, you are not alone."

The boy kept his eyes down as they passed the seats where his uncle sat glowering darkly at them and he could hear the man mumbling scathing remarks under his breath. He could feel the panic rolling off the boy in waves when he sat down in the chair, facing the court and he could tell that he didn't like having his uncle so close behind him, that it made him feeling even more frightened and vulnerable not being able to see where the man was and what he was doing – or holding in his hands – Severus thought, and he stood behind the boy, trying to shield him with his presence. Nevertheless Harry wasn't able to keep himseld from looking over his shoulder every now and then.

He again tested the clear liquid that was the veritaserum, hating the fact that the boy had to take it in the first place, but after again finding that it was the same potion, the one of his stock, he gave the boy's body weight and then allowed the court to administer one drop. He however held a vial of calming draught at the ready – just in case.

"Well, Harry." Antony Anton started. "I am allowed to call you Harry, am I not?"

The boy nodded quickly.

"Good, thank you, Harry." The man said and Severus couldn't help noticing that the man was calm, quiet and kind. "Would you like something to drink?"

The boy shook his head just as quickly as he had nodded before.

"Alright, Harry." The man then said. "Can you tell me how you are feeling right now?"

The Potions Master waited a few moments, hoping the child would – despite his better knowledge – voice his answer, but then he took a parchment and a quill from his robes, wordlessly placing it at the desk in front of the boy when it was clear that the child simply couldn't.

Well, the boy looked at Antony Anton, then at the parchment, at him, Severus, back at the parchment, at Anton, and then he hugged himself around the middle, just like he always did when feeling particularly nervous or anxious, as if protecting himself, and he didn't write an answer down right away.

"There is no wrong answer, Harry." Antony Anton said quietly. "Either one would be fine."

"I am quite here, child." Severus promised in a whisper, causing the young man who questioned the boy to smile.

'I'm scared.' The boy finally wrote, slowly, careful to write not only legible but without mistakes too and upon Antony Anton casting a spell on the parchment a children's voice was heard in the courtroom, repeating the words Harry had written whlie sounding as scared as Harry felt.

Winterbottom gaped at the boy after Dursley had said something to him and Severus could imagine what it had been.

"Is there something – _anything_ – about a child putting quill to parchment that is – out of the ordinary, maybe?" The Potions Master couldn't help asking with as much sarcasm as possible in his voice. Well, he could ask, couldn't he? And he hadn't even asked Winterbottom personally. The man however stopped his goggling and that was all Severus had wanted.

"Understandable, Harry." Antony Anton said, ignoring Severus' comment - as did Amelia Bones. "Even so I have a few questions and I ask you to answer them truthfully. I know that you are scared of this and that you rather would be at home and safe right now, but it simply has to be done. Well then, Harry, how far back in your memory do you recall being abused by your uncle?" He then asked upon a shy nod from Harry.

Again there was a pause and Severus slightly increased the pressure he had on the boy's shoulder, running his thumb over the boy's neck soothingly. He knew how afraid the boy was and he was sure that Harry felt Vernon Dursley's stare in his back as well as he did. But he also knew that the sooner they got over with this, the sooner he could take his son home.

It took some time during which Anton waited patiently, but finally Harry managed to write an answer down, maybe his, Severus', hand still resting on his shoulder giving him enough reassurance for doing so.

'I don't know for sure. I don't remember a time that they didn't. But I must have been really small becaus I remember still wearing diapers that my aunt didn't change for days at a time.'

For a moment the boy seemed startled at his own words he had written down on the parchment, even if he had explained to him that under the veritaserum he would not be able to keep the truth from the court and it was clear to him that Harry hadn't wanted to give this bit of information away. But then again the voice repeated the words Harry had written and the boy couldn't help looking around curiously, trying to find the source of the voice as it seemed to come from nowhere, or from everywhere, causing Anton to give a slight smile.

"Very good, Harry. Now, how old have you been when you _consciously _noticed that your aunt and uncle treated you differently than they treated your cousin Dudley?" The man asked, his voice still kind.

'I gess I was three, maybe four.' Harry wrote, a bit quicker this time, even if there still was a slight hesitance during which he turned his head to look up at him, Severus, and he gave him another encouraging nod. 'At first I got almost normal things to eat, just less. My cousin Dudley, he ate at least four toasts for breakfast everyday, with butter and jam or choclat cream while I got half a toast with no butter or jam, but I got one.'

"Didn't you think that was odd?" Antony Anton asked, frowning.

Harry looked at the man with confusion written all over his face, before he again turned his head to look up at the Potions Master.

"That he got so much more food than you and that he got butter and jam or chocolate cream on his toast while you didn't." Anton explained when he noticed the boy's confusion. "Didn't you wonder why?"

'No, not really.' Harry wrote down. 'He is so much bigger than I am, he always was, and I just thought that he needed more food than me. Uncle Vernon is bigger than aunt Petunia and he eats more than she does too.'

"Children's logic, and quite understandable. It was a very reasonable thought for a four year old." The man smiled at him. "Did you ever ask them why your cousin got so much more than you did?"

Severus could feel the boy tensing up and again he increased the grip he had on his son's shoulder in a reassuring pressure, continuing to run his thumb over the still so fragile neck while the child shook his head quickly, clearly scared.

'I wasn't allowd to ask questons.' He finally wrote.

"What would happen if you asked questions, Harry?" The man softly asked, apparently knowing that he neared the subject where he scared the boy.

Harry looked up at him again and Severus gave another reassuring nod, locking his dark and calm eyes with the frightened green ones, not breaking the eye contact until the boy turned back to the parchment and slowly, with a trembling hand wrote down his answer, a short one this time.

'He beat me.'

As strange as it was, the voice that repeated the words the young wizarding child had written with a trembling hand, trembled just as much.

"He did this quite often, didn't he, Harry?" Antony Anton asked quietly.

"We object to this question." Winterbottom called out. "The questioner attributes those words to Mr. Potter."

Antony Anton gazed over at the defense with a cold glare, but then – after a nod from Amelia Bones he sighed and turned back to the child in front of him.

"Alright, Harry." He said. "Can you tell me how often he beat you?"

Once again the boy drew into himself, hugging his spidery thin arms around his middle.

"It is alright, Harry." Severus quietly said, running his other hand over the boy's forehead and pulling his head back until it rested against his stomach, trying to give the boy a moment of comfort. "You are not alone, I am quite here. And know, that I am proud of you, never mind if you are able to continue or not. I am here and I won't abandon you, never mind what."

It took another few moments and Winterbottom was already about to stand up again, demanding an answer, but he was met with an angry glare from Madam Bones.

'He always did.' Harry finally leaned back forwards, sighing, and then wrote his answer. 'Every day.' And again the voice that repeated the answer sounded as scared as Harry felt.

"That was well done, Harry." Antony said, giving the boy a small smile. "What sort of situation would cause such beatings, Harry?" The man then asked.

'Don't know.' Harry answered. 'It could be anything. Not being quick enough when called, or not doing all my chores until uncle Vernon came home after work. Or whenever something strange happened, if I did something … if I did acsidental magic.'

"And how old have you been when your uncle started beating you for those strange things which you now know were your magic showing itself, accidental magic, and that had been quite normal for any wizarding child?"

Well, this time the only thing Harry was able doing, was shaking his head. Whether he really didn't know, didn't remember it, or he simply wasn't able to answer the questions anymore, Severus didn't know and he cast a questioning gaze at Anton who nodded back at him, promising that he would keep this as short as possible. Every flinch and every desperate look that crossed the boy's face was like an arrow into his chest.

"Alright, Harry." Antony Anton quietly said, knowing that the child could break apart at any moment. "Just a few more questions and then we are finished here. You have mentioned that – in the beginning you got almost the same things to eat as did your cousin, only less, and that you did not get your toast with butter and jam like your cousin. When did this change?"

'I don't really know.' Harry wrote after taking a deep breath. 'I don't remember how old I was.'

"Alright Harry." The man answered. "What was it you got then?"

'Nothing.' The boy wrote down, cringing and even the voice that repeated the words sounded really small now. 'It was neerly nothing. I got a slice of old bread twice a week if I were lucky.'

"You are doing this very well, Harry." Anton said, giving a reassuring nod. "Well, what were your other living conditions like with the Dursley's?" He then asked. "For example, did you share a bedroom with your cousin? Or did have one to yourself?"

Again it took the boy some time to answer the question and again Madam Bones had to cast a warning gaze towards Winterbottom. But then –

'I didn't have a room at all.' Harry slowly wrote, unsurely. 'I –' There he paused, once more turning his head upwards, casting unsure and frightened green eyes at his father and Severus gave him another encouraging nod. 'I lived in a cupbord.' He finally wrote. 'I remember that I always have been hungry and in pain while I was locked in my dark cupbord.'

Of course Antony Anton had known about the boy's living condition. He was the questioner after all and he had prepared his questions well so far. Nevertheless he looked as if he suppressed looking lived so he wouldn't startle or frighten the boy. The others in the court were not as good in keeping their emotions to themselves and there were a lot of loud gasps and angry shouts every now and then.

"Very good, Harry." The questioner said. "You said you lived in a cupboard and the Dursleys locked you in there. Were you allowed to the bathroom whenever you needed or to take a shower or a bath?"

This time Harry was not able to answer anymore at all, he just wrapped his arms around his middle tightly and bent forwards, nearly sobbing by now, and Severus knew he would have rocked himself into comfort if he hadn't had his calming hand still on his back.

How could he explain that? That was even more embarrassing than anything else!

How could he explain that he hadn't been allowed to use the loo for days sometimes? Until he had wet himself? And that he hadn't been allowed to clean himself afterwards?

How could he explain that his uncle had forced him into a bathtub with really, really, _really_ hot water then that had hurt horribly and that he had dunked him under the water whenever he had tried to get out of the hot water?

How could he explain that his aunt only had allowed him a cold shower once a week? Even in winter?

How could he explain that he had been afraid of the showers in the beginning when he had come to Hogwarts? But that he had known that Professor Snape had made himself clear and that he expected all of them having a shower each morning and each evening? And that he had known that he simply had to shower, even if he had dreaded it, that he had braced himself for being either scalded by the hot water or that he would freeze while having to shower with icy cold water down in those dungeons that already had been so cold? How could he explain anything of the dread he had felt to them?

"It is alright, Harry." He heard the Professor's voice but he only could shake his head. Nothing was alright. Absolutely nothing was alright and it never would be alright either.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Shaking his head Lucius Malfoy finally got to his feet. He had watched Severus' son becoming more and more frightened, desperate, upset, tired, and finally reaching the end of his rope, simply breaking apart at all ends. And he had watched Severus' desperate struggle to reassure his son, to keep him calm and to _keep_ him from falling apart at all ends.

He had watched Franklin, wondering when the attorney finally would interfere, knowing that neither Severus nor the questioner could do much, that it was the attorney's place to interfere, that Severus already had been warned by Bones and that he would risk being removed from the courtroom if he stepped over the line again, which he couldn't afford if he wanted to stay with his son.

And he had watched Anton and Severus exchanging glances, throwing expecting glances towards Franklin who had not reacted, either too stupid to realize what they meant or too incapable of acting as he should and doing his job properly.

"It is enough." He simply said, the soft background murmur in the courtroom stopping immediately and the hall becoming as silent as if being empty and he walked along the isle towards the court, hoping that Severus already had a calming potion at the ready. "I do not know why attorney Franklin does not call for a break when it is clear that young Mr. Snape needs one, but I strongly suggest, that Mr. Severus Snape asks for his attorney being replaced – by me."

He noticed the relieved look from Amelia Bones, wondering why she, as the presiding head of the court, had not stepped in. He noticed that the questioner looked just as relieved and that Severus gave him a court nod. At the same time he saw the sour look on the attorney for the defense, the startled one from Franklin and he smirked evilly.

"At first I apply for a break and ask for permission that Professor Snape supplies his son with a calming potion." He said while Franklin still looked at him, shocked and unbelieving. The man looked over at Severus and then back at him, not believing what had happened just now but then he got off his chair, packed his papers together and thrust them into his, Lucius', hands before storming off.

Madam Bones gave her consent immediately and out of the corner of his eyes he watched Severus giving the calming potion to – well, to Potter? To Snape? To Harry? To his son? How was he supposed to address the boy that had been – Harry Bloody Potter, the brat that had defeated the Dark Lord for so long? Well, he would figure this out soon enough. Right now he had other things to do.

"Mr. Malfoy is not a registered attorney." Winterbottom threw in, finally getting to his feet as well when he had recovered from his own shock.

"That might be, Mr. Winterbottom." Lucius admitted. "But I am the representative of the Malfoy house and the head of the school governors. So actually, I _do _have a voice at this court as you should know."

"Madam Bones." He then addressed the woman, stepping forth towards the long court desk. "I do believe that enough questions had been asked of young Mr. Snape and I ask you to release him. Everything else can be answered by the accused themselves."

"I do agree, Mr. Malfoy." Madam Bones inclined her head and he turned and walked towards the stand where Severus still stood behind the chair, by now encircling his arms around the boy that was sobbing and signing something to him while slightly pulling back and lifting his head to look up at the Potions Master, and he noticed the deep affection Severus held for this boy.

So be it. He thought. If Severus really had accepted Potter, Snape, whoever the boy was, as his son and had bonded with him, then so be it. He would accept his friend's decision and feelings.

'I want to go home.' The small voice of a child was heard, the voice that had translated the written words of Severus' son, only that this time the boy had not written the words but had signed them.

"Alright, Mr. Snape." He said, trying to keep his voice gentle and low. "That is enough for now. You will not be able to go home right now, but your father might lead you back to your seats where you may rest. You will not be questioned further right now and even if you will be, then it will not take place in the stand. Mr. Pudmore, if you just could get a glass of water for young Mr. Snape?"

He watched the boy allowing Severus to lead him back to his seat, away from the closeness of his aunt and uncle and he watched the addressed court clerk getting up from his chair quickly to get the required glass of water.

Poppy Pomfrey immediately fussed over the boy who only got more frightened by her closeness and by her actions before she sighed and backed off after she noticed that she didn't help the situation at all and Lucius actually wondered if maybe the boy was scared of her, that the boy maybe compared her to his aunt.

He quickly scanned through the papers Franklin had thrust into his hands before storming off, wishing he could ask for a break but knowing that they would need a break later on for Severus' son's sake. He had known that the boy had been abused, Elsa Harvest had told him, back then when she had visited him, had asked for his help to get Severus who had been arrested free, but he hadn't known the entire extent of the abused and he would like to prepare himself more properly, but well, he just would have to improvise and to play his Slytherin side.

And so the trial dragged on through the morning while he brought forth the written testimony from Madam Pomfrey that was in the boy's medical file as well as Severus' notes in the same file, showing the court the numerous injuries discovered on the boy's body as well as all the scars from yearlong abuse, showing the court the memories from Severus, Pomfrey and McGonagall that had been handed in earlier and he had to keep himself from loosing his composure at the cruelty he himself saw now for the first time.

He knew exactly how important wizarding children were and while he knew that he was not a father out of a picture book, he never had mistreated his son. A slap on his bottom or restricting the boy to his room for a few hours had been the worst he ever had done. He always had had the feeling that Narcissa had been less patient with Draco than he had been, but he never …

Suddenly he remembered some looks Draco had thrown at him sometimes, hurt looks, accusing looks, sometimes even frightened looks. He also remembered the boy's confuse denial when he once had asked him if his mother had beaten him after he had seen a bruise on the boy's face he'd had no explanation for, and suddenly he knew that he would have to have a word with his son, and soon.

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Severus didn't know what Lucius was pulling at exactly, but for the sake of Harry he right now was glad that the Malfoy patriarch had interfered.

He had arranged the terms of Harry's questioning with Franklin beforehand and he had made quite clear what would go and what would not go at all. And now Franklin had not abided to those arrangements.

"You are in quite a situation, Mrs. Dursley." Antony Anton said when it came to the questioning of the Dursleys, addressing the boy's aunt after she had been given the three drops of veritaserum, starting to question her while Lucius sat beside him, Severus, a thoughtful look on his face. "Can you tell me when exactly your nephew had come to your household and under which conditions this had been?"

"It was the first of November, ten years ago." The woman answered in a cold and screechy voice. "In the early morning hours. I opened the front door to get the milk bottles from the steps when I noticed that disgusting bundle laying on my doorstep. I should have just left him there, freezing to death. Or I should have drowned him. Would have spared ourselves a lot of trouble if I had. But I did as the letter that was attached to the blanket the freak was wrapped in told and took him in."

"You are accused of neglecting the boy of proper food, water and other things that are essential, to a point where young Harry nearly died and still suffers from." Anton continued. "Is that correct?"

"That freak got enough." Petunia answered. "He's still alive, isn't he? It's his own fault that he didn't deserve more. He was lazy, disobedient, and ungrateful, always asking for more. But he wasn't ready to work for what he wanted."

"You got a salary from the ministry for young Harry." Antony Anton said.

"Those few pounds never were enough to keep a bird alive!"

"Did you provide your own son as well with such necessities only if he fulfilled his chores?" Anton wanted to know, his voice quite curious.

"That was another matter altogether. Our Dudley was a boy so much better and lovelier than that freak that was a lazy and worthless bastard. Our Dudley never got us in any troubles and everyone loved our Dudley. I don't understand why this man had taken him from us."

"I ask the court to remind Mrs. Dursley that she may keep herself from vituperating my client." Lucius calmly addressed the court, getting off his seat. "I do believe that young Mr. Snape has been through enough at the hands of his aunt."

"Mrs. Dursley, please watch your tongue." Madam Bones thereupon said, her voice clear and demanding. "Or I will have you removed from this courtroom. You are here so you are given the chance of defending yourself and even while under the veritaserum that forces you to tell the truth, you are able to choose your wording while doing so. This chance will be taken from you if you continue bothering the victim further."

Severus gave Lucius a silent nod of thanks when the aristocrat sat back and Lucius only gave him a short nod in reply, his concentration back on the questioning of the woman he already despised deeply. He personally had heard enough already during this trial. No one, absolutely no one could be allowed treating a child as those monsters had done. And _they_ called that boy being a monster.

"Did you provide young Harry with a room of his own, Mrs. Dursley?" The questioner then continued.

"What?" Petunia Dursley sputtered. "The freak should have been grateful for the cupboard we allowed him to sleep in. We could have thrown him out into the snow after all. But the little freak never acknowledged how good we were to him despite his freakishness."

"Why would you keep the boy in a cupboard?" Antony Anton wanted to know.

"Why shouldn't we?" Petunia questioned back. "We simply didn't have enough space for him too. We never asked for him in the first place and we never thought of a second child when we bought that house."

"But the house held enough rooms." The man shook his head. "Your son had two bedrooms after all, while you denied your nephew even one."

"But our Dudley needed that second bedroom. He was such a good boy, our Dudley. Why _did_ he take him from us?"

There was a pause during which the questioner seemed to try and regaining back some control over himself.

"Well, you are further accused of beating young Harry." Anton said without going into the woman's question. "Is that too correct?"

"We had to raise that little monster." The woman answered glaring at the boy. "And we would not allow his freakish ways in our house!"

"You do know that this – 'freakish ways' – were only his magic showing itself, accidental magic each and every wizarding child shows at one point or another?"

"Of course I knew!" Petunia screeched by now. "My sister did the same freakish things when she had been a child. I remember it, you know? The same freakish things!"

"Did you know that your husband badly abused your nephew, Mrs. Dursley?" Antony Anton then asked and Severus could see that he barely kept himself from strangling the woman. "That he nearly beat the boy to death?"

"Of course I knew." Petunia repeated. "As I said, we had to raise a little whelp, a monster!"

"I do request casting an ear protecting charm on young Mr. Snape." Lucius finally got to his feet. "He really does not need to hear such distressing words spoken about him."

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During the entire questioning Harry had been beside him in his seat, stock still, ignoring his attempts to comfort him, flinching every time he heard his aunt's accusations and the boy seemed completely unaware of the tears that were running down his pale face. Lucius had cast an ear protecting charm on Harry at one point, after he, Severus, simply had picked the child up and placed him in his lap, curling his arms around the small form of his son and the child had hidden his face away in his robes, his eyes closed, while still silent tears continued to run down the pale face.

He barely registered the questioning of Vernon Dursley, the questions being nearly the same as they had been with Petunia Dursley anyway, the man's answers being however more violent and more angry, more aggressive. At one point Dursley even leaned forwards in his seat, threatening the boy, shouting that he would pay for this, before Madam Bones could tell the accused to stop threatening the victim.

Harry, even if barely aware of his surroundings anymore, nearly had lost his composure – and his breakfast – then, starting to tremble like a leaf in a storm and Severus could hear the child murmuring over and over "I'm sorry … I'm sorry … I'm sorry …" and as much as he had wished the boy to start speaking again, those had not been the words that had been on his mind. He didn't have any other chance than simply pulling another tiny vial of calming draught from his robes and trying to get Harry drinking it, before pulling the boy even closer to him, turning him in his grip while rubbing a soothing hand over his back to get him to calm down, that way effectively shielding him from seeing the Dursleys too.

There was only one question that was different from the questioning of Petunia Dursley.

Antony Anton cleared his throat and he prepared himself for what would come, the last question he would ask for today.

"Mr. Dursley, did you ever use your nephew as a sexual release?" He then asked.

"A sexual release?" Vernon Dursley answered. "The freak wasn't _that_ good, never was good enough for anything and surely not to please me. I just taught him what he was good for."

Gritting his teeth Anton growled darkly. That had not been an answer that he could use as a clear affirmation and evidence nor as a denial and he prepared himself to rephrase his question, hating it, but knowing that he needed a clear answer.

"So you do not deny that you have entered the child's rectum with your penis?" He asked, just to get all misunderstandings that might occur out of the way, while he at the same time curled his hands into fists to keep himself from strangling the bastard. Sometimes he really hated his job that required neutrality as he had to question both parts during court.

"Well, yes! Someone had to teach the freak his place." Dursley screamed. "Someone had to teach him the only thing he ever would be good for. A good fuck and …" The words that now followed couldn't be heard anymore as several spells hit the man. Silencing spells cast by Antony Anton, Amelia Bones, Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape – as well as a few others in the courtroom. As it seemed, the effect would be rather interesting and Severus doubted that all those silencing spells mixed together would loose their effect until far into the next month.

"That will be quite enough." Madam Bones said, her voice trembling with rage and shock. "The court will retreat for deliberation. We will meet back here in an hour for the attorneys' last questions and demands."

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Severus wanted nothing else than taking his son and leaving, going back home with the boy, already now being at a loss as to how he ever could ease and comfort the child he still held in his arms. The boy hadn't moved since the court had left and the Dursleys had been removed from the room by the aurors, clinging to him like to a lifeline, refusing everything, from something to eat to water, whimpering whenever he tried to get up and to stand or to walk a few steps, whenever he tried to turn the boy in his arms around, not even moving when the Dursleys had been brought back in and Severus only noticed his body tensing as if he knew that they were back, as if he felt their presence.

When the court returned after a late lunch, looking very grim, Winterbottom got up and went to the desk of the court.

"Well, my clients admit that they had done those things, yes. But upon taking Vernon and Petunia Jasmine Dursley into arrest the aurors noticed the intribuo insomnium cast upon both of them." The man announced, a smirk plastered over his face. "That means they already had been punished, and they had been punished by Professor Snape who had taken the law into his own hands. He went against wizarding law and the court has no other chance than releasing my clients. They cannot be punished twice and we demand that both of them are released at once. We further demand that their son Dudley Dursley is replaced into their care and that they both get visiting times for their nephew Harry James Potter on the weekends during the holidays."

"You did cast the intribuo insomnium, Professor Snape?" Amelia Bones asked.

"Actually – yes, I have." Severus answered, his face calm and blank while he inwardly seethed. How could they demand visiting hours for Harry? How could they … they didn't want the boy … they only wanted an opportunity to punish and torture the child for that trial … they only …

A hand on his shoulder however stopped him from continuing and he looked over into the face of Lucius Malfoy, a man he had been unsure about, a man he _still_ was unsure about to some extend, but who gave him a warning look and then got up as well, went over to the desk of the court.

"Professor Severus Snape simply has exercised the right of the head of a house according to paragraph ninety-seven, article one in the book of the wizarding law, which states that as a head of a house he has the right to punish any committer that had harmed a member of his house as long as he uses only one spell on said committer, that said spell is no unforgivable and that said spell does not kill or harm the committer more than the victim had been harmed." He said. "The punishment Professor Severus Snape has dealt out towards Vernon Dursley has nothing to do with the punishment the committer will have to face from the wizarding law. The same goes for the right of the head of a house Professor Minerva McGonagall has exercised according to the same paragraph, over Petunia Jasmine Dursley, as she – being the deputy headmistress of Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry – is Mr. Harry Severus Snape's head too in one way or another. Both professors are not to be held account for their actions while it will not affect the punishment both Dursleys will have to face by law. Dudley Dursley however cannot be replaced into the care of his parents as they clearly had proven themselves that they are incapable of raising children and neither can young Mr. Snape be placed into their care during any visiting times they might demand. In the contrary - we insist on a life-sentence in a high safety ward in Azkaban."

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He hadn't been able to calm the boy in his arms while the attorneys had made their requests and he hadn't been able to calm the boy while the court had once more stuck their heads together, quietly whispering, and he not even had been able to calm the child he still had held in his arms while Amelia Bones had announced the verdict – a life-sentence in a high security ward in Azkaban.

He simply had gotten off his seat after that, the small body of his son still in his arms, and together with Lucius and being shielded by aurors on either side of them, being surrounded by them actually, he quickly strode out of the courtroom, along the hall and into the elevator, through the entrance hall and then into the floo.

He had not been able to avoid all the photographers of the press that had waited outside of the courtroom completely, but the aurors had been able to keep them from having to answer the questions they had shot their way. Of course Harry had – despite the fact that he had hidden his face within the depths of his robes – noticed the pressure of the press and by the time they finally had reached the dungeons Harry had absolutely broken down in Severus' arms, sobbing uncontrollably from pent up fear and strain.

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**

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To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_The aftermath of the trial – on Harry's and Severus' part as well as on the wizarding world's part._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	53. fathers and sons

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_He had not been able to avoid all the photographers of the press that had waited outside of the courtroom completely, but the aurors had been able to keep them from having to answer the questions they had shot their way. Of course Harry had – despite the fact that he had hidden his face within the depths of his robes – noticed the pressure of the press and by the time they finally had reached the dungeons Harry had absolutely broken down in Severus' arms, sobbing uncontrollably from pent up fear and strain._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter fifty-****three**

**Fathers and sons**

It had taken him an hour to get the boy calm enough to simply fall asleep within his arms. An hour during which the boy had clung to him like a man drowning to a straw, like to a lifeline, like to something that would keep him from falling into an abyss so deep he never would have managed to climb out from by himself. An hour during which the boy had been sobbing uncontrollably, murmuring apologies over apologies and pleas over pleas. Apologizing for being bad, for causing trouble, for being a wizard even, pleading for not being beaten, pelading for something to eat, pleading to be held and comforted, and as much as Severus was glad that the boy actually _did _speak, the words the child, his son, spoke worried and startled him just the more.

He hadn't even been able to feel the anger and the rage he should have felt at the Dursleys upon hearing those words again, he simply had been too worried and desperate, because nothing had helped, neither a calming potion nor his words of comfort, and not even holding the child. It had been as if the boy had been so deeply buried in his flashbacks that he hadn't even felt the embrace, his arms holding the boy, the comfort he had tried to give. It had been as if the boy had felt cold, alone, frightened, hungry and hurt all over again and for a moment he had wondered if Harry's perception concerning his own body might be different from other children. A thought he definitely would look into as soon as he had Harry back to normal and a bit more time to concentrate on this matter.

It had been an hour until the boy had fallen asleep, exhausted from his desperate crying, from all the pent up fears and strain of the trial and Severus simply wasn't ready to release the child, kept him within his arms while he sat on the sofa, still running his fingers through the child's hair while cursing himself.

He should have refused.

He simply should have refused having the child at court.

Never mind the Dursleys trial, never mind their punishment by law, he simply should have dealt with them personally and he simply should have refused the child being at court.

The fire flaring caused him to look up and he could see a silver wolf wavering in the green flames, giving the patronus he knew was Lucius' a slightly green shimmer and he waved his right hand, allowing the patronus through his floo while wondering what the Malfoy patriarch wanted, wondering again why Lucius had stepped up at court …

"Please be as kind to give information on an appropriate time to step through your floo as I have urgent matters to discuss with you, concerning Franklin, and with my son concerning his mother." The patronus said, then vanished and Severus sighed. He surely did not have the nerve to speak to Lucius right now, but he also knew that Lucius had done him a great favor today and he wanted to thank the man – not to mention that he simply wanted to know where he stood with Lucius.

So, knowing that he wouldn't manage leaving Harry alone anytime soon, he conjured his own patronus. As he wouldn't be willing to leave Harry alone anytime soon, he just as well could talk to Lucius right now.

"Right now would be just as appreciate as anytime else, but please be quiet while coming through as Harry is asleep and in no state to handle any more strain." He softly said to his patronus and then sent the silver doe through the floo towards Malfoy Manor. Barely five minutes later the fire flared again, very softly this time, and through stepped Lucius Malfoy, looking pale and concerned. The man quietly stepped over, the cane that held his wand carried in his hand instead being used so it wouldn't make a sound on the stony dungeons floor.

He watched the silver-blond man regarding him and Harry for a few moments before he sat down into an armchair, but for the life of him, he didn't care what Lucius might think right now.

"It is a long time since I last have been here, Severus." The man started in way of greeting, his voice lowered to speaking softly and he noticed that he somehow couldn't take his eyes off Harry. "And under such strange circumstances no less. I have to admit that I was a bit surprised when I have learned about you having adopted that boy, but if this is what gives you peace, then be it."

"I have not only adopted him, Lucius." Severus answered, as quietly as the slightly older wizard had spoken and his hand still rested on the child's head, his fingers buried in the black hair.

"Yes, I now can see that." Lucius inclined his head. "I only have seen that child in a picture on the Daily Prophet once, but seeing him in reality, I now can see the similarities between the two of you. So Lily for once had left you something, a son."

"What do you mean, you only have seen him in a picture on the Daily Prophet once?" Severus asked, frowning. As far as _he_ could remember, Lucius had seen Harry in Diagon Alley, five weeks after the child had come to Hogwarts, when he had taken him to the Alley for shopping.

"The article about your trial." Lucius answered, frowning himself now. "And your son's background, written by Skeeter. There had been a picture of the two of you as well – a quite cute picture, I might add, the evil dungeons bat coddling a firsty."

"I do remember the picture this blasted woman had used in her article, even if I still wonder how she had managed to get hold on this one and don't you dare using the word cute in my quarters ever again, Mr. Malfoy! May I however ask you, where you have been on the eighth of October, Lucius?" Severus asked, still frowning, his eyes narrowed at his old friend that chuckled at him for a moment before growing serious again.

"October, eighth." Lucius tilted his head to one side, the furrowing of his eyebrows deepening. "What day had that been?"

"A Monday." Severus simply answered.

"Monday, the second Monday in October in this case." Lucius mused. "I have been at home. At least I don't remember going out on this day. Why?"

"You do not happen to have been at Diagon Alley?" Severus then asked. "Have you?"

"Surely not. Last I have been to Diagon Alley had been at the end of August when I got Draco's school supplies. Why, Severus?"

"Because I have met you in Diagon Alley on Monday, eighth of October, where you have seen Harry." Severus simply stated, his eyes still narrowed at the other man.

Lucius leaned back in his armchair, closing his eyes while taking a deep breath.

"I do hope that my wife has not offended you or the boy." Lucius Malfoy quietly said, his eyes still closed and Severus couldn't help thinking that the normally so arrogant man looked devasted somehow. So, this was another blow to the normally so proud aristocrat, after the letters Narcissa had written Draco in his, Lucius, name, Narcissa planning on acting as him during his, Severus, trial, and he clearly could remember the conversation he'd had with a nearly panicky Lucius Malfoy after the man had learned that Narcissa had sent Draco poison to use on Harry, fearing that his son might have committed a crime, or was about doing so. And now he had learned that Narcissa had acted as him, probably using polyjuice potion, on more than just one occasion and in the open no less, in Diagon Alley and probably Knockturn Alley as well.

"She had harmed neither me nor my son." He answered to ease the other wizard's worries that still had his eyes closed and now only nodded at him. He looked down at his still sleeping child, the boy's upper body still laying in his lap, within his arms, while the boy's legs on the sofa were drawn close to him, even in this position, as if even now while being held he were trying to curl into a small ball and his traitorous fingers again carded through the boy's hair.

"At least. But there is more, Severus." The man finally said, opening his eyes and looking at him. "I fear that Narcissa might have beaten Draco, using polyjuice potion in order to act as my person. Whatever reason for, I do not know, but I do remember quite a few strange occasions that I could not explain back then, but now."

"If this is the case, then you should talk to Draco." The Potions Master suggested, not ready yet to tell the man that he always had known that Draco had been beaten and that he always had had Lucius under suspicion.

"What is the reason I am here." Lucius answered. "One of the reasons. The other is, that I have found out a few things about Franklin, this brilliant attorney of yours. Might it be that you did not mandate him, but that _he_ addressed _you_ and offered his services?"

"Actually, yes." Severus nodded. "He had been able to show me references to other trials during which he had worked with children. Am I correct in the assumption that they were counterfeited as well?"

Lucius Malfoy nodded at him, his face serious.

"I have learned that our dear Ex-Minister Fudge has commanded him for this." He then said. "Fudge wished to see you in Azkaban and even with his office lost, he was not ready to give up so easily. He might not have been able to finally imprison you, but he tried to destroy the child and therefore you. I suggest that you bring charges against Franklin."

"I surely won't drag my son through another trial, Lucius." Severus growled, looking down at the child in his arms and running his fingers over the boy's still so pale and fragile face. "I yet have to learn what this trial has done to the child, but the past hour has been enough to know that it had been a mistake to allow Harry at the court in the first place. I should have …"

"You could have done nothing, Severus." Lucius interrupted. "Not even Bones had been able to change that."

"I could have dismissed the thought of lawfully punishing the Dursleys and simply take matters into my own hand."

"And would have been arrested for it, Severus." Lucius leaned forwards in his armchair, for the first time reaching out and touching the child that lay in his friends arms, brushing his fingers over the child's forehead, feeling the soft skin underneath his fingertips and feeling the pain that lingered behind a face that was too pale and too thin for a boy his age. "Do not do anything stupid, Severus. Fudge might have lost his office, and he might have lost a lot of influence, but he is not as stupid as he makes others believe. He still has friends, like Franklin, just for example, and he will watch you and your actions. You cannot risk being arrested, old friend, and even if it is only for your son's sake."

"For my son's sake, I will not drag him through another trial."

"And you don't have to." Lucius said. "A trial against Franklin for abusing his position has nothing to do with your son but with you. The boy won't have to be present at court and neither would you. You simply have to give your testimony and I will do the rest – if you are amenable with me acting as your attorney."

Severus again looked down at the boy in his arms, at his son, and for a long time he simply watched the child that even now, in sleep, looked so tired, exhausted and troubled after this trial.

"You do not know how close Harry has been to death." He then said. "You do not know how ill this child still is, and you do not know …" Closing his eyes he shook his head. "No." He then said. "I do know that there probably is no attorney within wizarding Britain that could compete with you, but I won't risk anything with this child. Even if this means that Franklin will get away."

"As you wish." Lucius said. "But know that I will assist you whenever you change your mind."

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The Slytherin meeting room was still the same as he remembered it and Lucius seated himself into the armchair opposite his son in front of the fire. He didn't heed the green carpets that dotted the room, nor the green and silver drapes that decorated the walls. He gazed at his son instead, seriously, sadly, and even a bit anxiously.

Narcissa had beaten his son while using polyjuice potion, disguised as him, Lucius Malfoy, he was sure of that. And now he didn't even know if Draco would believe him, and if – if he ever would trust him again. He didn't even dare to think about what would happen if Draco wouldn't believe him. The boy looked at him calmly, but it wasn't a calmness he was comfortable with, as he clearly could see the mask Draco was displaying in front of him and he knew that behind this mask his son was unsure, maybe even scared.

Knowing that it wouldn't help to delay the discussion that was necessary, he leaned forwards and taking a deep breath he looked at his son and then simply started the conversation he came here for – yet dreaded at the same time.

"Draco." He said. "I know that I have asked you this before, but each time I did, you have watched me in a strange way I have not been able to explain back then. I however fear that I can explain it now. And that for I will ask you again. And never mind what, I do wish you giving a truthful answer."

He waited a moment until Draco nodded and then took another deep breath.

"Did I ever hurt you?" He then asked, already seeing the boy's answer on his face. "Did I ever beat you?"

Well, Draco was not one of the older Slytherins he had grown up with while attending Hogwarts, nor was the boy an adult who had perfect control over himself. the boy was just that, a boy, a child, and as good as most Slytherins were in displaying a mask, as good as most of the old pureblood family members were in displaying a mask, of course the boy couldn't fool him, Lucius Malfoy.

"I won't hurt you, Draco, never mind which answer you give." He quietly said. "I just want you to answer truthfully. I even do already know the answer even. But I need to hear it from you. I need you to speak it out. Because I need to have confirmation. I need no doubt to be left."

There were a few moments of silence, moments during which Lucius waited patiently, knowing that if he right now demanded an immediate answer like he normally would, he would not only hurt his son, but lose his trust as well. At least that bit of trust that was still left, while Draco stared ahead, apparently lost in his own thoughts.

"Yes." Was the only word the boy finally answered him with after a few moments and with a sigh he leaned back in his armchair, running his hand over his face. It was the first time that Draco had answered his question with an affirmation. Up to now the boy always had declined while his face, his eyes, his wary stance, clearly had told that – yes, he had and no, he did not understand the question.

"You do know what polyjuice potion is, Draco?" He then asked, looking back at his son.

"Of course." The boy answered. "With this potion you can disguise yourself as someone else. You just need a hair or something like that from the person you wish to turn into."

"Exactly." Lucius nodded. "And you … Draco, I have never beaten you. I swear. I …"

"I knew you would say that." Draco whispered, his voice quiet and the Malfoy patriarch could detect the slightest waver in the boy's voice. "I don't know why you deny it, I mean, you must remember it as well as I do. But I knew you would and because of that I always said no. I just thought … I mean, you have come to Hogwarts now … and you're here now … and so I thought that you …"

Averting his eyes he trailed off and Lucius got off his armchair, knelt in front of his son. He took the boy's hands in his, noticing Draco flinching for a moment, startled, but he did not back away, pierced his son's pale eyes with his own.

"And you thought right, Draco." He said, as quietly as his son had done. "I am here to clear things. But it has not been me, Draco, who had beaten you. I do not know if you can believe me, but it has not been me. Do you remember the beginning of this year? Shortly after we came back from holidays? I have been to the ministry and when I came back you had a bruise on your face that I knew couldn't come from a simple fall. I asked you who had beaten you and you looked at me in this strange way, as if you couldn't understand my question before you said no one."

"But you have." Draco whispered. "You came back early and you found me playing with Dobby. And then you said I were not to play with the house elves. You said a Malfoy wouldn't play with a house elf. And then you … well …"

"Draco." Lucius said when his son trailed off. "I have not simply been to the ministry for having a cup of tea with that imbecile of Fudge. Because then I surely would have come back early, yes, as those afternoon tea times with Fudge were anything else than pleasant. I have been to a conference with the Wizengamot and one cannot leave early when being in a conference with the high court. Laws are made in those conferences, they have to be discussed and they have to be planned through, before there can be held a vote on them. Those conferences are taking hours. I have been to the ministry and I did not come home early. I came home at eight in the evening, when I asked you about your bruise, and not a minute earlier. I swear this to you. I even can take you to the ministry to show you the accounts on this meeting, to show you evidence if you so wish."

"But … but if you … then that means that … but mother wouldn't …" Again Draco trailed off, unable to finish the horrifying thought, the thought that his mother, the one person he had trusted in, the one person that might not have loved him as deeply and as warmly as other mothers maybe might love their children, but that always had been a person he could have confided in, that his mother had betrayed him thus, had been using polyjuice potion to …

"She did, Draco." Lucius said. "It had been your mother who wrote you those letters about poisoning Potter, Harry, counterfeiting my handwriting, and it had been your mother who had sent you the poison. It had been your mother who had tried to get Severus arrested, acting as my person in front of Fudge, using polyjuice potion on more than one occasion I fear, and it had been your mother who had beaten you when I have not been at home, again acting as my person using polyjuice potion."

"But … but why would she …" Draco whispered horrified. "I have trusted her … why would she …"

"I cannot answer your question, Draco." Lucius said, sighing, sitting back into his armchair and simply pulling Draco with him who started crying. It was the first time since many years, since the boy was a small boy, that he cried in front of him and he was sure that he would deny it later if being asked about it. "I cannot answer your question. I fear that you mother is so deeply obliged to the Dark Lord, that she does not see any reason anymore. I know that you might not like this, Draco, but once I have trusted your mother, when we had married. I cannot do so anymore and I have decided to divorce. I will apply for sole custody over you and I do not wish you to meet your mother while being without supervision from child services. I won't forbid you meeting her, she is your mother and you have the right to see her, but there will be someone present from child services whenever you do visit her."

Draco only nodded at him, still crying and somehow he was reminded that it was still a child. As harsh as he might be and as much as he might demand from his son, Draco still was a child. Maybe he had demanded too much from the boy. Draco was not Lucius Malfoy and he, Lucius, was not Abraxas Malfoy.

"Do you still trust me, Draco?" He asked, and as pathetic as this question might sound for a Malfoy, he just _had _to ask, he just had to know. And honestly, if Draco could allow himself to cry in front of him, then he could ask such a pathetic question in front of his son. They were in privacy, and there was no need to keep up the ever stoic and cold Malfoy Mask. Noticing that it felt good to hold his son in his arms like this he realized that maybe it was time to start over.

"Dunno." Draco answered between sobs and he sighed.

He normally would have reprimanded the boy for such a sloppy speech, but right now he didn't have the heart doing so.

Well, it was an answer that had to be expected. Draco would need time to sort out everything he had learned over the past hour, and honestly, it was better than the no he had expected. Maybe it was the best answer he could get from his son right now.

"Wanna go home." He heard the child whispering and he looked down at his son, being reminded of another child, another child that had asked the same question of his father, just a few hours earlier, and he nodded.

"And you shall." He gently said, running his hand through the pale blond hair of his son. "I will inform your head of house, and then I shall take you home for a few days."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Alright, let's face the facts." Fred Weasley said.

"Potter arrives at Hogwarts, not able to speak, looking ill and being frightened of his own shadow." George Weasley answered, easily taking hold of his twin's line of thoughts.

"Looking like a miniature Snape and being sorted into Slytherin." Fred continued, leaning forwards in the armchair he was sitting in, in the Gryffindor common room, near the fire.

"He ends up at the hospital wing and then he disappears to come back as Harry Snape." George mused, opening a bottle of butterbeer and reaching it towards his brother before opening one for himself.

"Thanks." Fred grinned when taking the bottle from his twin's hand. "Snape definitely adopted Potter, but I think he already was his father."

"You're welcome." George saluted towards Fred in a ridiculous way. "Alright, we also know that Snape definitely did not cause Potter's illness or he wouldn't have been worried so much over him."

"When he fell from the broom." Fred nodded.

"When Ron bullied him in his first class back." George threw an angry gaze towards their little brother.

"After the troll incident." Fred's gaze wandered towards Hermione amongst that group.

"And when he was missing yesterday." Both twins gazed back at each other.

"Snape hadn't known that Potter was his son or he wouldn't have adopted him in the first place …"

"But simply would have taken him back into the family."

"So – Potter had not been living with Snape. But what had happened that he didn't?" Fred then asked.

"Dunno." George shook his head. "But apparently he lived with his relatives, with his aunt and uncle."

"And they had caused Potter's illness." Fred agreed, remembering the conversation between the Potions Master and Malfoy they had overheard the day before in the great hall, concerning the trial of the Slytherin boy's relatives.

"In other words – they mistreated him."

"That's only a guess." Fred reminded his twin brother.

"Jap, only a guess – but a good one." George inclined his head.

"_Definitely _a good one." Fred admitted.

"However – Snape apparently pressed charges against them."

"Who them? Potter's aunt and uncle from his father side? Or from his mother side?"

"Dunno, does Snape have a sister or a brother?"

"Dunno."

"Alright."

There was a pause for a moment, during which both twins furrowed their brows in thought.

"So – today was their trial."

"Jap, that's what Malfoy said."

"Do you think Potter's alright?"

"Dunno, but I hope."

"Hmmhm." Fred agreed with a sigh, knowing that the small boy probably was not.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"I would like to take Draco with me to Malfoy Manor, Severus." Lucius said upon returning, the boy sleeping, clinging to the blond aristocrat in his sleep like Harry clang to him in his sleep and Severus couldn't help smirking. It was a strange sight, Draco clinging to Lucius, sleeping while the blond wizard carried the boy on his hip and for a moment he wondered if this was what he, Severus, looked like when carrying Harry. He now definitely could understand Minerva grinning each time she saw him carrying Harry like this.

"Of course." Severus said, wondering how much Lucius might have told Draco but glad that the boy seemed to have believed his father, seemed to still trust his father or he would not cling to him like that. "I however ask you to bring him back on Friday evening so he has the weekend to reintegrate before classes start on Monday. Do you need anything?"

"This is a question I should be asking you, Severus." Lucius said, his pale eyes on the Potions Master, concerned.

"I will be quite fine." Severus answered. "And so will be Harry. It will take some time, but he will be fine. What about Draco?"

"Draco too will need some time to work over everything he had learned today, but he will manage." Lucius answered. "We at least still have a chance to start over. Severus …" The man started, but then trailed off and the Potions Master looked at him questioningly.

"What is it, Lucius?" He asked when the other wizard didn't continue.

"You have a son now as well, Severus." Lucius Malfoy finally said. "See that you care for him more than I have done with mine."

There wasn't anything Severus could have said to this, there wasn't even anything he _knew_ what he could say to this, and before he could think of anything Lucius was gone, had left through the floo to Malfoy Manor.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Albus Dumbledore dropped into the armchair close to his fire as soon as he came home.

It had been the first time that he had seen all evidence to Harry's abuse in the pensive the court had viewed. It had been the first time he had witnessed Vernon and Petunia Dursley's opinion about Harry. And it had been the first time he had seen the boy breaking down upon the weight and misery he had placed on the child's shoulders.

Of course he had seen Poppy's reports on the child's abuse, of course he had read Severus's reports and of course he had listened to his Potions Master's words, concerning Harry's abuse – what had been the reason as to why he never had visited the boy in the hospital wing, back at Hogwarts, after he first had leaned how deep the mistreatment had went. He simply had feared what he might find there if he visited the boy.

And now he had been forced to find out the hard way. Now he'd had no other chance than to watch the boy suffering, suffering from the report Severus, Minerva and Poppy had given at court, from the questions the child had had to answer, not able to voice anything, and from the harsh words he'd had to listen when Petunia had been questioned until Lucius Malfoy had cast an ear protecting charm on him. Now he had been forced to witness the child's fear, misery, pain and exhaustion, the child's breakdown.

And Severus.

Until now he had doubted the Potions Master's motives. Well, not his motives, no. He had known that the man had had Harry's best interests at heart. He had known that the Potions Master cared deeply about not only his Slytherins in general but Harry in particular. But now he had seen the man's pain he had hidden behind his mask, the man's desperation, and how deeply he cared for this particular child and in this moment he had realized how much he had wronged Severus and how much he had hurt him by keeping Harry from him. In this moment he had realized how big of a mistake he had made – and how many mistakes.

And again he had wanted to go to them, after the trial, had wanted to apologize, to take them into his arms, to ask for their forgiveness, but again he had not dared doing so, again he had feared that what he had done had been too unforgiving, had feared that they would reject him. But the moment he had taken a deep breath to go down to the seats, they had been gone.

His old face wrinkled and sad he gave another sigh, knowing that he had wronged both his children too much, that he had _hurt _both his children too much, and why? Yes, it was important that he prepared himself and the people around him for the upcoming war he knew would come, sooner or later. But had it been worth this? Had it been worth to risk both young wizards' lives? The young man's life? And the boy's life? To risk their health, mentally and physically? To risk their happiness? And in the end to lose them? Had it been worth this?

He didn't know.

He had done what he had thought was right. But now?

Now, right now he didn't know anymore if it had been right, if there hadn't been other possibilities maybe.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Dreams and dreams __– in sleep as well as in one's desires – and the mirror of erised._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	54. questions and questions

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_But had it been worth this? Had it been worth to risk both young wizards' lives? The young man's life? And the boy's life? To risk their health, mentally and physically? To risk their happiness? And in the end to lose them? Had it been worth this?_

_He didn't know._

_He had done what he had thought was right. But now?_

_Now, right now he didn't know anymore if it had been right, if there hadn't been other possibilities maybe. _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter fifty-****four**

**Questions and questions  
**

"Sir?" A voice asked from behind and he stopped, recognizing this voice immediately as Dudley Dursley's.

He should have known that the boy would address him, most probably accuse him after the trial on Monday. He had claimed charges against the Dursleys, charges he had known would cause a livelong stay in Azkaban and nevertheless he had done this, robbing Dudley Dursley his parents forever.

He had not done so to hurt the boy, to inflict any damage on him, definitely not, but because he knew that those monsters had to be punished. And punished severely. Even now Harry was on the verge of … of … of _anything_. The child was on the verge of tears, of a repeated breakdown, of not eating and not sleeping, of … of simply anything.

On the other hand – he had _two_ wards. And he had to regard Dudley Dursley's needs as well as Harry's needs. And right now this need was to rage against him for imprisoning his parents.

"Professor?" The voice asked again and slowly he turned to face the boy, regarded him with a long and serious but calm look.

The boy looked miserable, the pale face holding dark circles underneath eyes that were red from crying, eyes that held worry, sadness, and – simply misery. The figure itself seemed to be shrunken somehow, the shoulders slumped, the arms hanging lifelessly at his side and only the slightly trembling fingers fidgeted with the hem of the sleeves from his robes.

What he however missed was the angry look in the pale face and lowering his head to one side he took a few steps towards the boy that simply stood there.

"Not here, Dudley." He said, for once using the boy's given name and he slowly extended his hand in an inviting way. "We will talk in my office where we will have more privacy."

He had used the boy's given name once before, the evening when he'd had him over his knees, after he had given him a sound spanking for following Harry and Draco into the girl's bathroom to face a troll, knowing that the boy needed being addressed by his given name just then. And just like back then he knew that the boy needed this right now as well, that he needed this kind of familiarity and kindness. So – he simply would give the boy what he right now needed.

He even would allow the boy to rage against him, it wouldn't be the first time one of his Slytherins did.

**Flashback**

_"How could you!" __Marcus Flint screamed, standing there, his small hands curled into tight firsts and his dark eyes in a pale face glaring daggers at him. "How could you! I have trusted you! How could you!"_

_"It simply was necessary, Marcus." He said, not backing away. He had placed the boy in a foster family and he had claimed charges against the boy's parents. Charges of child abuse, and now they were imprisoned for the next ten years. The boy would grow up without them._

_"You've betrayed me!" The boy screamed at him, took a step towards him, yet – he didn't back away, already knowing what would come. _

_"I know." He simply said, not even trying to defend his actions, knowing that – in his, Marcus', eyes – the boy was right. _

_"I have trusted you!" Marcus screamed, lifting his arms and hitting his fists against his chest in a desperate attempt to somehow ease his own pain in hurting his teacher, and he allowed this, knowing that the weak attempts the eleven year old tried wouldn't hurt him. But it would ease the child's pain._

_"I have trusted you!" The boy repeated and his __first fist hitting his chest quickly followed a second and a third, accompanied with accusations and 'you're mean' or 'isn't fair'. Of course it wasn't fair, but it bad been for the boy's best interests. And of course he was mean in the boy's eyes, but he would understand as soon as he had calmed down. So he simply allowed the boy to rant against him. _

_It didn't took even ten minutes until the boy ceased hitting his fist against his chest and screaming at him, leaning his forehead against his chest instead, exhausted and tired, still sobbing, and Severus simply wrapped his arms around the boy's shaking shoulders, leaning his chin atop the __dark brown hair. _

_"Feeling better?" He simply asked, knowing that it wasn't the right thing to reprimand a child for expressing his pain, and surely not if he had been the one who had caused that pain. _

_"I'm sorry." The boy sobbed, not answering his question. _

_"There is no need to be." Severus sighed, having known that this would come. "You are not to be blamed for expressing your pain in such a situation and you have not hurt me. And now answer my question, child, are you feeling better?"_

**End Flashback**

Marcus Flint _had_ been feeling better, somewhat at least, and after that outburst he had seen reason. He had settled well in his foster family – until his father had been released from Azkaban early a year later and he, Severus, had been unable to prevent the man claiming his son back.

He had been able to keep Marcus relatively safe since then, his father knowing that he had an eye on the boy, but it nevertheless was a less pleasant childhood and youth for the boy and he already had talked to the teen that was in his sixth year, assuring him that he would keep him at Hogwarts for the summer holidays.

They even had decided that Marcus would repeat a class so he would stay at Hogwarts as long as possible before he would release the boy into the world, knowing that each day would help the boy to stabilize the resilience against his father.

Opening the door to his office he led the Dursley boy in and – again noticing that the anger he had seen on Marcus' face that long ago, was missing from _this _boy's face – he closed the door, pointing at the chair that stood in front of his desk while he himself sat onto the edge of his desk, watching the boy close.

There wasn't however a reaction, aside from the boy leaning his arms onto his desk and simply placing his head atop his arms, closing his eyes and Severus could see the tiredness, wondering when the boy last had been sleeping peacefully.

Well, of course Dursley had known about the trial against his parents since Thursday last week, and probably he had worried the entire weekend. And then the trial yesterday – well, he had learned that his parents had been sentenced to a livelong stay in Azkaban and that he would grow up without them. A situation so much alike Marcus Flint's, and yet the reaction was so different.

Sighing he extended his hand and placed it on the boy's shoulder, wordlessly, simply waiting and simply offering at least that comfort. At one point he for a moment even wondered if the boy had fallen asleep, as tired as he had looked, but then he felt the boy taking a deep breath underneath his hand and Dursley turned his head that still lay on his arms to look at him.

"Sir?" He once again asked and the Potions Master locked his dark eyes into the blue ones of the muggle boy.

"Yes, Dudley?" He asked when the boy did not continue.

"I just …" Sighing the eleven year old pushed himself upwards and looked at him. "I just wondered if I could visit my parents. In prison, I mean. I would like to … well …"

"You would like to see them once more." Severus simply stated when the boy trailed off, unable to vocalize those words. "Understandable." He then continued, folding his arms in front of his chest after his hand had slipped from the boy's shoulder the moment he had pushed himself upright. "It is not common to visit an inmate of Azkaban, but as I have some influence, seeing that I am a head of a house on a boarding school that works hand in hand with child welfare – I am sure I will be able to arrange such a visit for you."

"Ok." Dursley simply said, leaning his arms back onto the desk and placing his head back atop his arms.

"Do you need anything, Dudley?" Severus asked, gaining a headshake from the boy only.

"Are you tired?" He asked, not because he didn't know if the boy was, it was apparent that he was, but to see if the boy would tell him the truth or shrug it off. The boy simply nodded.

Getting off the table he took the boy's upper arm and simply pulled him up, ignoring the look of protest that briefly crossed the boy's pale face.

"Up with you, Dudley." He simply said, leading the boy across the office towards the smaller one in which they held their weekly first year meetings on Saturday mornings. "I guess you won't find enough rest in your dormitory right now. You will be able to find more rest and peace in the meeting room right now than in your dormitory."

Transfiguring one of the sofas within the room into a large bed he gently pushed the boy down and then placed the blanket that had been laying over the backrest over the child.

"I will give you a free pass for tomorrow as I expect you to stay in here and to take your time for grieving." He said while sitting at the edge of the bed he just had transformed from the sofa and again placing his hand atop the boy's shoulder. "Your parents might not be dead, but they are robbed from you and this is as painful as if they were. I do understand this. Rest now. Close your eyes. Listen to the soft sound of music and allow yourself to fall asleep. Everything will be fine in the end, trust me, child."

A flick of his wrist had the wireless that stood in one corner of the room turned on, barely above a whisper but audible and another flick of his wrist had the candles diminished one by one until only two small flames were left.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Sighing Severus ran his hand over his face. He was tired, he had to admit, tired beyond anything he ever had felt.

Since more than two months now he had Harry with him, a child that was damaged beyond anything he ever had seen and even if the boy was better since a few weeks now, even was able to attend classes meanwhile, there was one relapse after another one. The incident with Quirrel hexing the boy during defense, the incident with the troll and then being punished, being spanked by him, Severus, had thrown the boy back, even if it had been manageable. His, Severus' arrest, had thrown the child back for days, had thrown him even deeper in an abyss than he had been in before and he had feared that the boy would stay that unresponsive. That the boy had started speaking afterwards had been something he never would have thought possible, not in such a situation. And then the Dursleys' trial had thrown the boy back again and he still didn't know how far back or how long it would take him to have Harry back to his recent standard.

And then there was Dudley Dursley, a boy that hadn't been easy as well.

This child had not been abused, but it had been overflowed with anything he had wanted, started from affection over toys up to food while at the same time he never had learned sympathy or reason in handling other human beings and only recently the boy had started to learn just that. In other words, this child was as complicated as was Harry, destroyed by his parents. The boy had been a very angry boy in the beginning, a very silent boy later on and just lately he seemed to be happy somewhat, seemed to be comfortable around not only Hogwarts but around him, Severs too.

Not to mention that there was Draco he worried about, that child having been betrayed by his mother in the most gruesome way possible and even if he had a feeling that Lucius might change, he worried if this blow to the child had not destroyed something within him, something of the deep trust the boy always had held.

And – of course his other Slytherins he always worried about.

So of course he was tired.

Never before had he had a child within his care that had been abused as badly as had Harry been, and never before had he had to keep a child within his chambers, away from the common room, as long as he had to keep Harry.

Not that he was upset about this. He definitely loved the child, his son, but it was a testimony of how deeply the child had been hurt and two month of constant attention, of constant concentration so he would not accidentally startle and frighten the boy, well – it left traces and as much as he loved the child, it left him tired.

Opening the door to his private quarters he noticed with a sigh of relief that Harry still was asleep on the sofa, exhaustion and tiredness finally catching up with the boy and he went over, sitting into the armchair that stood closest to the edge of the sofa his son lay in, curled up into a small ball, as if still fearing he might be attacked in his sleep.

He had known that Harry would not take it lightly, having to attend the trial of his relatives, but honestly, the child was back to a mess.

Alone last night he had found the boy laying in his cupboard after a nightmare, curled up into a small ball, sobbing, believing that he was not worth using the bed. This morning it had taken him a lot of persuasion to get Harry eating his breakfast as had been the case with lunch this afternoon. The boy's ways of communication had fallen back to a mixture of stuttered words and signs, a lot of apologies and the promise that he would be good.

Noticing that the green eyes had watched him for some time now he narrowed his eyes at the boy, thinking, his head slightly lowered to one side, and without a word he got off his armchair and beckoned his son to follow him.

"Come here, Harry." He softly said upon sitting onto the bench that stood in front of the piano and he extended his hand the moment the boy came near, took the boy's hand and simply pulled him closer until he stood in front of him, between his knees and between him and the piano. He simply took the boy under his armpits and lifted him up until he was sitting at his lap, turning his head and looking back at him, startled.

"There is no reason to be startled, child." He simply said, taking the boy's fingers and placing them atop the keyboard. The child's fingers were too small he noticed, and with a smile he remembered when he had had his fingers atop the keyboard of a piano for the first time. Back then his fingers had been too small as well.

The boy didn't dare to press the keys down, his body tense, as if he knew that this piano held a lot of memories for him, Severus, as if he knew that this piano was important to him, Severus, as if not daring to breach this importance, this privacy.

"There are a lot of ways to express someone's emotions." He simply started talking while at the same time placing his own fingers atop the small child's and gently pressing them down, ignoring the flinch the boy gave away at the sound his fingers had provoked from the music instrument, ignoring the stiff body he had sitting atop his knees. "You can for example draw pictures, you could write poems or simply down your thoughts, you can dance, you can do sports or you can use music."

All the while he gently pressed down small finger for small finger, at first playing the scale so the boy could get a sense of what sounds the instrument made and then playing a soft and easy tune the boy would be able to remember with time and to play by himself.

"You can play a tune that is already existent, like this one, but you as well can play something you just came up with, to use notes you feel you need to use at the precise moment." He said, noticing that the child started to relax and he smiled for a moment, relaxing himself. "And if you have any sense for the tones, it won't even sound weird, because you automatically would use harmonic chords."

"But … but what … but what … what if … if I … what if I … if I break … what if I break it?" Harry asked, turning his head again and looking back at him, his green eyes large with a mixture of fear and eagerness.

"It really is hard to break a piano." Severus answered, smiling. "And even if you would manage, then we simply would repair it. How long are you living here in the wizarding world now?"

"Since … since … since two … since two … oh …" The boy answered, understanding crossing his face.

"Oh, indeed." The Potions Master smirked. "You are living here in the wizarding world since more than two months now, and you still have to learn that there is a 'reparo' that can repair things even if you have seen Minerva as well as Filius and myself using this particular spell from time to time? As long as you promise me to handle this instrument respectful, you are allowed to use it whenever you wish to."

"When- … when- … ever … whenever … whenever I … I wish to?" The child asked with large eyes, turning on his lap completely so he could look at him more easily, so he could study his face, trying to find out how serious he really was.

"Whenever you wish to." Severus simply affirmed.

"Even … even if … even if … if … if you … even if you're … you're not … not here?" The boy asked, just to be sure.

"Even if I am not here." Severus nodded. "As I simply _do _trust you that you will handle this instrument with respect, yes, I do allow you to play it, even if I am not here."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Alright, you knock."

"Why me? It has been your idea."

"But you're the older one."

"Only by a few minutes."

"But you _are_ the older one."

"For Merlin's sake, alright, I'll do it." George Weasley said. "But if he cuts us into potions ingredients, I swear you, I will ensure that you are cut …"

"You _both _... will be cut in the same way, Misters Weasley." A smooth voice came from behind them and George for a moment wondered why in Merlin's name Snape always came up upon them from behind. Maybe he loved it to startle the students senseless with his silent approach and then with his dark and velvet voice addressing them? "What is it I can do for the two of you?"

"Uhm … well … we just …" George said.

"… had a question." Fred finished.

They watched Snape who regarded them with a piecing look down his nose before the man simply passed them and then opened the door to his office, holding it open in a way to invite them.

"Take a seat." The Potions Master said, casting a charm at the door behind his desk, a silencing charm if they were correct, and both of them cast a quick glance at each other. They had managed to enter the snake's den and they were alive so far. The question remained – how long would they stay alive? Maybe they should have left it to talking to McGonagall.

**Flashback**

_"Professor McGonagall?" George stopped in front of the professor's desk after transfiguration._

_"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" The woman, their head of house, said, and George cast a quick glance at his brother._

_"Well, we have a problem." Fred said._

_"A small one." George added._

_"Well, rather a big one." Fred shook his head._

_"What exactly is the problem?" McGonagall wanted to know and George smiled. She didn't send them away._

_"Well, we have had trouble sleeping lately." He said._

_"Then maybe you should go and visit the hospital wing?" McGonagall suggested and he cast a nearly disappointed look at Fred. "I am sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to support you with a mild sleeping potion._

_"But it isn't that kind of sleeplessness." Fred intervened. _

_"By all means, Mr. Weasley, what kind of sleeplessness do you speak of?" McGonagall asked and Fred sent his brother a smirk that clearly said: 'You just have to say the right things.'_

_"Well …" He started. "You see, there is this girl, and …"_

_"Yes, I indeed do see, Mr. Weasley." McGonagall said, shaking her head. "You two are lovesick. Please do not tell me that you are in love with the same girl."_

_"What?" George spluttered. _

_"No!" Fred quickly shook his head. "No! But you see, we just both have the same problem and we just … well … can't sleep because of it. We're twins after all."_

_"Something that I did not fail to notice." McGonagall sighed. "The problem is, you will have to deal with that as does every teenage boy your age. I cannot help you here. Talk to the girls and if that does not help, then go to Madam Pomfrey. I am sure that she will be able to help the two of you."_

_"But …" George said while Fred at the same time copied his words, or rather word._

_"I am sure you have another class." McGonagall sternly said, dismissing the two Weasley Twins._

**End flashback**

Well, it had been a short, a very short conversation. Granted, it had been a school day and it had been after transfiguration and with history of magic ahead of them, but honestly – they had addressed McGonagall with a problem and honestly – they had been disappointed. She at least could have told them to come back _after_ classes to speak to them. But she hadn't, she had sent them ahead and she had told them to go to the matron.

And now they simply wanted to know how Snape would react. A dangerous thing, they knew. If Snape found out that they just wanted to test him, he would kill them, but they just _had_ to know. Flint had said the man cared.

And so they had waited until they had the same condition as they had had back then with McGonagall, their head of house that now was the headmistress. A school day, and with history of magic ahead of them, and even the fact that McGonagall had been the deputy headmistress back then. Well, now _Snape _was the deputy headmaster and he also was a head of a house. The only difference was – he was not _their_ head of house but the head of _Slytherin_.

Severus, noticing the worried glances they cast towards each other lifted his eyebrow at them while he seated himself onto the edge of his desk.

"What is it, Misters Weasley?" He asked, and George immediately noticed one difference. Snape addressed both of them, he didn't say Mr. Weasley, but either Mr. and Mr. Weasley or – normally – Misters Weasley or gentlemen. Again he cast a worried glance at Fred. Well, they were here, they had dared to start this, and he would pull through now.

"Alright." He said, taking a deep breath. "You see, we have … some kind of … well, trouble sleeping well lately." He said, noticing that it was definitely more difficult to address Snape with a – fictitious – reason than McGonagall. If McGonagall had found out, well she only would have taken points - or given detention. If Snape found out … he better did not think about _what_ the man would be capable of doing to them.

"Any idea as to why you have trouble with sleeping well?" Snape said. "And what exactly is the problem? I need to know if you have nightmares, if you are unable to fall asleep in the first place or if you are waking up in the middle of the night regularly, gentlemen."

"Well, definitely not nightmares." George said, unsure how to answer. This was a question he had not expected. How should he know what kind of sleeping problems one who was lovesick had?

"Not really at least." Fred shook his head. "It's rather, well, unable to fall asleep and then waking up in the middle of the night."

"Alright." Snape said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Any suggestions as to what could cause those problems, gentlemen?"

"I don't know for sure." George said, not sure how to bring the next point up. How did one address Snape with lovesickness?

"It maybe could be because we ate something wrong." Fred sighed, just as much at a loss as his brother.

"Or maybe because the new subjects we've had to chose this year." George said, trying to play for time and hoping that his brother would pick the right sentence.

"Maybe it's just a growth spurt." Fred, sensing his brother's attempt, said.

"Well … or …" George started, knowing that Fred would _not _pick up this particular suggestion.

"Or what, Mr. Weasley?" Snape asked, looking at him questioningly.

"Well … I mean … you see … maybe that's because …"

"You do know, gentlemen, that whatever is said in this classroom, will stay in this classroom?" Snape asked and he, George, looked over at Fred, startled, who looked back at him, just as startled as he was.

Snape? Offering them privacy? Promising them that whatever they said in his classroom wouldn't leave?

"Well …" He said, taking another deep breath. "Maybeit'sbecauseofagirl."

"If you please would repeat this part, Mr. Weasley, and a bit slower so I actually can understand what exactly you are saying?" Snape suggested, his eyebrow lifted at him questioningly but not smirking at him.

"Well …" He tried again, not understanding why it was so much more difficult with this man than it had been with McGonagall. "Well, maybe … maybe it is, because of … because of a girl." He then finished his sentence before turning to his brother. "Thanks for your great help here, dear brother."

"Oh, you're welcome." Fred smirked at him.

"Gentlemen." Snape drawled and immediately they knew they better did not continue this. "I do understand that it was not easy to get this particular sentence said, but that is no reason to start a quarrel about it. Now. I doubt that you simply have eaten something wrong, gentlemen, as you seem to suffer from sleeping problems for longer than just one or two nights, otherwise you would not have come to me with this. Hence – you would have had to eat something wrong for quite some time, what I doubt as you would have gotten ill to the stomach in this case. You have not been ill to the stomach, have you?"

George shook his head, seeing his brother do the same out of the corner of his eyes.

"Good." The Slytherin head of house said and George couldn't help noticing that the man looked serious. "Have you had aches in your bones, lately?" The older wizard then asked.

Blinking in confusion George cast a quick glance at Fred. What did their bones have to do with being unable to sleep or having had eaten something wrong?

"No, sir." He said, again shaking his head.

"Good." Snape said. "Then I guess we can exclude the growth spurt as well as in most cases your bones hurt when having a growth spurt. Especially the bones in your legs. Let us take the additional subjects – you have chosen which ones?"

"Uhm, care of magical creatures, ancient runes and divination." Fred answered.

"_That_ – would have caused _me _sleepless nights too." Snape snorted for a moment before getting serious again. "Which creatures did you cover up to now in Professor Kettleburn's class?"

"Bowtruckles and Nifflers." George said, frowning. Snape hopefully would not find a reason as to why they were unable to sleep there, because then he surely would give them something and send them their way.

"Nothing to worry about." The Potions Master mused and he nearly sighed with relief. "On the other hand, as you both seem to suffer from sleeping problems, and seeing that you are twins, an allergy could be possible. I will have to notify Madam Pomfrey. Maybe she has already discovered an allergy on your older siblings or your parents. Are you working with tealeaves during divination at the present time?"

"No, that's over."

"Luckily."

"That stuff was disgusting."

"We're working with the crystal ball now."

"What's just as stupid."

"I have to agree with that, but unfortunately that is no reason to cause sleepless nights, expect for the two of you taking the subject or what you are – _'seeing'_ – in those crystal balls seriously what you do not seem to." Snape continued musing, again pinching the bridge of his nose. "As you mentioned a girl, I guess it could be possible that this were the reason for your sleeping problems. You two hopefully do speak of different girls?"

"Uhm … yes!" George gasped, wondering if each teacher feared they could have chosen the same girl just because they were twins.

"Of course!" Fred affirmed, nodding his head.

"Good." The older wizard sighed. "As it is normal for boys your age to have a girlfriend and to have trouble with said girlfriend I do not wonder that both of you have such problems at the same time. For being sure however that this actually could be a reason to your sleeping problems, I would have to know if you _do _have trouble with your girlfriends."

"Uhm … actually …" George started, not knowing which trouble he could have with a girlfriend he didn't even have.

"Well … I guess so …" Fred too started, being at a loss just as his brother.

"And those troubles are, gentlemen?"

"Well, it's not easy to explain." George sighed.

"Trouble with a girlfriend is never easy to explain." Snape said, causing the twins to blink shocked. "Before I however give you a potion I would like to know more so we can search for a solution without one. Potions are very helpful but not the answer to everything and if there would be a possibility to avoid them, then this possibility should be taken. I even would go as far as offering you a conversation with said girls here in my office so I could help if necessary, but I strongly suggest that you at least try to solve the problems without the help of a potion. So?"

"Well …" George gasped, startled, not believing his ears, not believing that Snape would go as far as lending them his office and assistance when it came to a conversation to clear their problems with their girlfriends – whichn they still didn't even have.

"I mean." Fred too blinked in near shock. "Alright. You see, I've been really stupid. There was the last Hogsmead weekend, and my girlfriend and I, well, we went to Madam Puddifoot's. You know the tea shop just off the High Street. And well … I know that it's stupid because everyone is kissing his girlfriend in there, but the moment she asked me to do that, well … I left. I ran out and left her behind. I didn't even take the time to pay for the tea."

"I guess you have been a bit nervous, Mr. Weasley?" Snape asked and he quickly nodded his head.

"After that, correct me if I am wrong, the girl had been angry at you?" Snape again asked and again he quickly nodded his head.

"Did you tell her that you simply have been startled and nervous?"

"I tried, honestly." Fred said, squirming in his chair. "But she didn't listen, she's not speaking to me anymore."

"Alright, Mr. Weasley." Snape said, giving a heavy sigh away. "You have to know that a girl that is left behind in a place like … this tea shop, and after being denied a kiss, simply feels rejected. If I am correct then this tea shop is a place where all the Hogwarts students go for their more – let me say personal dates. In other words, a lot of other students have witnessed your departure and you leaving your girlfriend behind. And now she not only feels rejected but shamed as well. Not to mention that she had to pay for the tea what normally is the boy's part in this little tea shop. You do understand how that girl might feel?"

"Yes, of course." Fred said, hoping that they soon could leave this office and hopefully with their skin still covering their muscles and bones while George watched him with a nearly amused smirk on his face. "But I simply couldn't help."

"I do understand that, Mr. Weasley." Snape inclined his head. "But that does not change the fact that your girlfriend does not understand. Girls are more emotional than boys, especially if it comes to their – love life. I suggest that you try to make it up to her with a letter and maybe a bouquet. Try to explain to the girl the reasons of your actions, and – knowing your Gryffindor tactfulness that practically is not existent, I even –" Here the man actually closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if he had to prepare himself for his next words. "Offer to go over your letter. Again I promise that nothing will leave this office."

"Merlin!" Fred gasped, slumping forwards in his chair and leaning his head in his hands.

"Professor Snape will suffice." The man smirked and George immediately knew that he tried to lighten the mood in the room. "It is an offer, nothing more, Mr. Weasley. Just try to apologize while being subtle and – _sweet_ – without being intrusive or offending in your letter if you chose to send it without being read through before."

"Alright." Fred groaned, his head still in his hands.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus nearly fell into bed after taking a shower tonight.

It had been a really long day. First potions with the sixth years Gryffindors and Slytherins and after that with the seventh years Gryffindors and Slytherins, then trying to get Harry to eat something, the discussion with Dudley Dursley and he, Severus, bringing him to bed in the meeting room behind his office, and then, just when he had been about to look after the boy later in the afternoon, the conversation with the Weasley twins.

He of course had cast a silencing charm at the door that led to the meeting room encase Dudley Dursley had woken yet, but he had looked at him after the talk with the Weasley twins and the boy still had been asleep. He'd had a look at him later again, just half an hour ago actually, and still the boy had been sleeping and casting an alarm over the boy that would alert him if he woke during the night, he had finally left to have a last look at Harry before going to bed himself, hoping that for once his son would sleep without a nightmare so he could have one good night's sleep, while at the same time knowing that he would not be so lucky.

And honestly, after that blasted trial it was no wonder that the boy had strong nightmares again. Everyone would have nightmares after _that_. But well, at least Harry had learned something today and he was quite glad that he had shown the boy to the piano, that he had allowed him to use the instrument.

Harry had been sitting there again, after dinner, and he carefully, had tried to repeat the tunes from after lunch, the tunes softly and unsurely hanging in the air in his quarters – but not misplaced. Maybe it really was a way for the child to express himself and to express his emotions, to deal with them. Harry definitely had looked better afterwards, more relaxed and somehow at peace.

Maybe – just maybe, he could get the child back to classes on Thursday, instead of next week as he originally had feared after Harry's breakdown yesterday afternoon upon their return from the ministry and the trial the child had been through. He had called on Minerva later to inform her of Harry's condition and he had told her that he didn't know if the child would be able to attend classes this week at all. She had not liked the fact that Harry would miss another week of classes, and neither had he, but she had accepted it as had he, knowing that they simply couldn't force the boy to classes if he were not ready to.

And in the state he had been in yesterday, he surely had not been ready to.

However, the child had looked much better today, at least after playing the piano, as subtle and as unsure this careful experiment had been.

Well, and then the twins …

He still tried to figure out why those two had come to him of all people. Not that he wasn't ready to help them. He would have had the same talk with each and every student, and honestly, the twins were two of the more acceptable students. So – no, he did not mind, he just did not understand. Lupin was their head of house.

But well, Lupin was new to them and honestly, he could understand that they would _not _want to go to the _wolf _with something like this. They most likely did not know that Lupin was a werewolf, it was not common knowledge after all, but well, the man _was_ new to them, it was his second day as their head of house only.

And Minerva? Minerva had been their head of house for a long time, surely they would have gone to her first, before addressing him, Snape, the head of Slytherin, of all people. Yet – they _had_ addressed him. Well, he knew Minerva. He knew her probably better than any other teacher at Hogwarts, and he knew that the woman cared, that she really cared. In her own way.

She always had brought forth some of the best transfiguration students, some of the best Transfiguration Masters even. And she always was there, ensured their safety and their wellbeing. But she just did not know how to handle the children's personal problems. School matters, yes, that definitely she could handle better than a lot of other teachers, to handle the student's choices of what to do in later years, their future jobs, yes, she always got them all into the direction they wanted and she always managed to get them into that directions successfully.

Even if her students were ill she managed quite fine, noticing the signs and then sending them over to Poppy for a diagnostic and for medication, ensuring that they took the potions required and even being there if Poppy didn't have time when there were a lot of ill children like during the winter months for example. He had met her in the infirmary sitting beside the bed of one of her lions more than once, just like he did with his snakes.

But the personal problems of her students? Their emotions? Their mental needs? Their needs regarding curfew, meals and stability? No. There Minerva was at a loss, only recently learning because she was in such a close contact to Harry who needed all those things. She simply wasn't able to deal with her homesick firsties, sending them over to Poppy or to have a talk with her lovesick students. She only was learning recently what it means to have such personal talks with her students because of her close contact to Harry who needed all those things and more.

Well, so no – it was no wonder that the Weasley twins had come to him instead of Lupin or Minerva.

Sighing he turned off the lights, only the candle on his nightstand burning, illuminating the picture of Lilly brushing the ghost of a kiss onto his cheek while standing on her toes, smiling at him in the picture.

He had given his advise to the twins, concerning their girlfriends, had handed them a mild sleeping potion so they might have one good night's sleep while at the same time reminding them that it was important that they solved the problems with their girls instead of taking such potions constantly and offering them further help if needed, hoping that they would manage.

Not because he was not ready to, otherwise he had not offered, but because he knew that they would grow with each task they managed, knowing that it was important that they did this instead of ignoring the situation, not to mention that if they did not manage and ignored their girlfriends, then either he or Poppy probably would have two upset girls very soon.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**

* * *

T****o be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_A visit in Azkaban and the twins telling Marcus Flint that he had been right, that Snape simply cared._

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	55. the suicide mission

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added note:**

sorry that this chapter is a rather short one, and sorry that I am late, getting it online on Sunday instead of Friday, but I had a lot to do this week … but well – here it is and I do hope you will enjoy it …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Not because he was not ready to, otherwise he had not offered, but because he knew that they would grow with each task they managed, knowing that it was important that they did this instead of ignoring the situation, not to mention that if they did not manage and ignored their girlfriends, then either he or Poppy probably would have two upset girls very soon._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter fifty-five**

**The suicide mission**

"Mr. Dursley." Severus addressed the boy after all of them had handed in their samples and were now about to clean their workstations. "Please stay after class."

He hadn't been sure if he could return to classes so soon, but seeing that Harry had fallen asleep on the sofa, he had dared to overtake his first year class, asking Zilly to have an eye on Harry while hoping he would not wake before he returned.

It was strange, really. Whenever Harry fell asleep in his bed, he never slept longer than two or three hours in a row during the night without night terrors, and he definitely only slept for a few minutes whenever he fell asleep in his bed during the day, only taking a short – a very short – nap. Whenever he however fell asleep on the sofa during the day, he could sleep for two hours without waking at all, as if the sofa would provide him a sense of safety.

Well, maybe it did, seeing that it stood in an area where the boy felt safe, where they often sat together, drinking tea. Harry still preferred his own room whenever he was unsure, whenever he felt he had done something wrong, did not dare to come out, and if, then in a way that made clear he thought he was not allowed to leave his room – for Severus a clear sign that still Harry subconsciously feared he would lock him in his room as had the Dursleys locked him in his cupboard.

The students, leaving the classroom one by one as soon as they had cleaned their workstations, got him out of his thoughts and he concentrated on Dudley Dursley who came through the classroom to stand in front of his desk.

He waited a few more minutes until the last students had left the classroom before he put the essays he was grading aside.

"I have promised you I would arrange a visit with your parents." He said, looking at the teen with serious eyes. "If this still is what you wish, then I will take you to Azkaban on Friday afternoon."

"Yes, I still do." Dursley answered, his face still pale but not so tired anymore than it had been yesterday. "Thank you, sir."

"You are welcome." Severus nodded. "Is there anything else that needs to be addressed right now?"

"Uhm … actually, yes." Dudley Dursley answered, shifting from one foot to the other and Severus lifted his eyebrow at him questioningly. "I would … I would like to apologize to Harry." The boy murmured. "I know that you said I have to wait and I won't do anything before you said I can, but I would like to."

"We will discuss this on Friday." The Potions Master said. "I guess I will be able to arrange that as well."

Dudley Dursley's head shot up to look at him startled for a moment, but then the boy's face nearly relaxed as if a heavy weight was about to be taken from his shoulders.

"I also would like … I mean, I have saved my allowance, and I would like to get something for Harry." The boy said and he lifted his eyebrow. Dursley was in his care since more than two month now, and aside from two weeks when he had kept his allowance from the boy for refusing to cooperate with his studies, he always had gotten his money. Yet – he not once had bought something.

"But you do not know how." He guessed aloud and Dursley nodded.

"I will help you with this." Severus then said, somewhat proud at the boy. "I however expect you to only get something small. I am sure that Harry would not handle something big so well, seeing that he never before had gotten much presents in the past. Think it through carefully. This too we will discuss on Friday."

"Ok, thank you, sir. And …" The boy continued but then stopped.

"And?" The Potions Master then asked, lifting his eyebrow.

"Well, I mean … you see, I am not a wizard." Dursley finally said while playing with the hem of his robes, looking somehow frightened. "And so I surely would not be able to actually do magic, but … what you said, that I could work at the ministry one day, if I liked and if my marks were high enough, that I could work as a mediator between muggles and wizards if I liked … well … I just wanted to ask, if I could take the other classes as well, the ones, the magical ones, like charms and transfiguration. I know that … however, I would like to learn the theory behind it nevertheless. I mean …"

"I guess that can be arranged, Mr. Dursley." Severus answered, startled. He had not thought that the boy would ask _such_ a question. But well, seeing that the boy made an effort in his studies – they could try it. "I will have a word with the other professors, but I am sure that it will be possible. You however have to remember that if you take those classes, then you will have to do your homework in those curses as well even if the actual spells you won't be able to use. You only can learn the theory behind it."

"I know." The boy nodded with nearly a smile on his face. "But if I really … I mean, the more I know, the better it will be, won't it?"

"I guess you are right." Severus agreed and with a nearly relieved sigh the boy turned to leave the classroom upon his nod of dismissal. "And Mr. Dursley." He called him back once more however.

"Sir?" The boy asked, turning back to his teacher.

"I want you to know that I am proud of you." Severus said, feeling that he should give the boy something for the effort he had made and that he had made an effort, that he knew. "You have come a long way, not only in seeing that you have been wrong concerning Harry's abuse, but in understanding the wizarding society and in your studies too. I do acknowledge this."

Dudley Dursley just stood there, gaping at the Potions Master like a fish for a moment.

This man had been so … so harsh and so dark and cold in the beginning, had been so … the man had hated him, he knew that, had scared the shit out of him. In the beginning he always had been so sure that he would handle him unfairly. Ok, he had learned since some time now that Snape wouldn't hurt him, that he wouldn't beat him like his father had beaten Harry. But in the beginning he had feared just that. But now? The wizard talked to him, and he gave him his allowance and helped him with his classes if he had problems. And he even had arranged a meeting with his parents on Friday.

And now he would help him getting something for Harry and he would allow him to apologize, finally. And he had said he could attend the other classes.

His parents.

Somehow he feared meeting his parents. On one hand he missed them and wanted to see them again so badly, but on the other hand he was angry with them. He had learned so much since he was here at Hogwarts and he now knew that his parents had been wrong, that they had been cruel and that they had done a crime. They had abused a child, Harry, and that was something not to be done. He knew that now and sometimes he wondered what it would have been if he would have been playing with Harry instead of bullying him.

He cast another glance at Snape who looked at him in this odd way he always did, stern and forbidding, nearly cold, harsh, and so _piercing_, as if he could look right inside of him, and he realized that the man's gaze was not so harsh and not so cold anymore as it once had been. Or he didn't think that it was so harsh and cold anymore. Whatever. But the Professor still seemed overly stern and serious. He not once had seen him smiling at someone, not even at Harry or Draco, and those two were practically his family. He just didn't know what to think about the man.

Why was he so harsh to begin with? Why did he never smile or laugh? Why was he always so stern and so cold? How old was he even? He looked not really old, but all those lines in his face and the black eyes seemed so old. Was he really a vampire like some of the other students said? Why didn't he care if the students liked him?

Well, the Slytherins liked him, and he started to understand why. But the other students …

"Thanks, I guess." He murmured, coming out of his musings upon realizing that he probably looked like an idiot, not really knowing what to say and upon another nod of dismissal from Snape he quickly turned and fled the classroom.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Have you been on a suicide mission?" Marcus Flint asked, stopping mid step and turning towards the twins, looking from one Gryffindor to the other, nearly gaping at them open mouthed.

"Well, we're still alive." George answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yes – still." Marcus said, shaking his head at the stupidity those two had displayed. "Why did you do this?"

"Well, remember the conversation we had a few weeks ago?" Fred asked.

"The one about our heads of houses?" George added in way of explanation and Marcus nodded at them, again not minding that they entered the Slytherin common room after him and he reached two bottles of butterbeer towards the twins, as if it were a common thing for them being here in the snake's den.

Well, he had to admit – and not for the first time – if someone dared this, entering the snake's den, the Slytherin common room, then the twins were the two for pulling such a stunt, and honestly he didn't mind really. Those two were some of the few Gryffindors that were bearable to begin with and honestly, he even could imagine them being Slytherins. They could be cunning enough and they definitely were intelligent enough, if only they had more value for their own life.

Severus was sitting in the small library that was attached to the Slytherin common room, together with Dudley Dursley, planning the boy's new classes, just when two voices that definitely didn't belong to one of his snakes came through the portrait hole and he lifted his eyebrow curiously.

"Well, we went to McGonagall." The one voice that definitely belonged to Fred Weasley said. "And we addressed her with our problem."

"And?" Marcus Flint's voice asked and he too sounded curious, even if a bit startled.

"Well, you know, she sent us on our way to the next class." A voice that belonged to George Weasley said. "Said we should go to Pomfrey if we didn't feel well."

"And so we waited until we had the same conditions and then addressed Snape with this." Fred Weasley's voice continued.

"With what exactly?" Marcus asked, sounding more than startled now.

"Well, we told him that we had problems sleeping." George Weasley.

"And we even gave him a few ideas as to why." Fred Weasley.

"Which he pretty quickly all crossed out."

"Except girls."

"You really have been on a suicide mission." Marcus said and the Potions Master could see the boy's shocked face in his mind. So – the twins had made this up? But why? What …

"We just wanted to know what Snape would do." George Weasley explained that what he just had wondered about.

"We just _had_ to know." Fred Weasley said and he sounded nearly desperate.

"But why?" Marcus then asked.

"Because – you see, McGonagall has been our head of house, and we really like her."

"She doesn't bother us with a lot of things, but we couldn't help noticing …"

"… that she wouldn't be there if we had a problem that is not school related."

"And so we decided to address your head of house with this."

"But why, in Merlin's name?" Marcus asked. "I don't understand."

"Because you said that Snape always would be there if one of you had a problem."

"And we wanted to know if he would do the same for us."

"And we wanted to know what it felt like."

"At least we now know that Snape really cares."

"Of course he does, I already told you." Marcus actually sounded hurt right now, as if he couldn't understand why the other houses hated him so much. "He _does_ care about the students, and not only about us Slytherins."

"Yes, we couldn't help noticing."

"He actually wanted to know what problems we had with our girl friends."

"Girl friends we do not even have, mind you."

"Do you know how difficult it is to make up a problem you have with a girl you do not even have?"

"It's much more difficult with Snape …

"… than doing so with McGonagall at least."

"You do know that Professor Snape will not be pleased if he notices that you only have tested him."

No, he really was not pleased. He could understand the twin's curiosity, but somehow he couldn't help feeling betrayed by them. He had believed their story and he had tried to help them, while they only had tested him.

"Uhm … actually … yes."

"But we just _had_ to know."

"Why?" Marcus asked, a question he himself wanted to know as well.

"Because he always is so … so strange and so … so well …"

Again there was a pause.

"You know what I mean, Flint." George Weasley then said, softly, as if he couldn't understand the world.

"On one hand he takes points and gives detention and hurts the students."

"And on the other hand he helps us brewing a potion in the middle of the night just so we can prank our dear little brother."

"On one hand he seems so unfair."

"And on the other hand he helps Macmillan learning grammar using different colors during his detention."

"Sometimes we think he isn't as bad as he always pretends."

"He even had given us a free pass for history of magic and had reminded us that next time we should come to him after classes."

"And he sounded as if we could come to him again if we had a problem."

"One always can go to Professor Snape with a problem." Marcus growled. "He isn't a monster just because you all think he is one."

"We know this."

"We just don't understand."

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So – the twins only had wanted to test him.

He wasn't sure if he should be angry or if he should ignore it. On one hand he had trusted them and they had lied to him. On the other hand he was a cold and dark man without a heart – so they couldn't really hurt him. But then again – he _was_ hurt by their betrayal.

Alright, betrayal definitely was too strong a word, he had to admit that. They were children and they only had been curious. But that didn't make it right either.

Sighing he reached over at the table to take the cup of tea. He simply would ignore it for now. The Weasley twins were some of the more pleasant students in the first place and he acknowledged this, they only had been curious.

_"And we wanted to know what it felt like."_

It was a sentence that made him think. They had been curious only, and honestly, this sentence showed that not only they got no support from their head of house, not the way they should get however, but that they got no real support from their parents either, seeing that Arthur and Molly Weasley had seven children to care for. Of course they wouldn't have as much time for them as had other parents with only one or two children. The attention their parents could give, they had to share not only between them, but with five other siblings as well.

So – of course they wanted to know what it felt like having an adult that cared and that gave them his undivided attention.

But he wasn't such an adult. He had his Slytherins to care for. And he had Harry and Draco, and Dursley, all three of them being his responsibility in one way or another. So – as much as he would like to, he couldn't give the Weasley twins his undivided attention. Minerva should have given it to them, and now the wolf should give it to them.

But at the same time he knew that they wouldn't get it from them. Minerva was the headmistress now, and the wolf – somehow he doubted that Lupin would really know how to handle classes, his house, all the students and then some of them individually added to this.

Not because he thought Lupin wouldn't be capable, he knew that Lupin would understand more than others, having been some sort of an outcast by himself, seeing that he was a werewolf, knowing what it felt like being alone and in need of support, but because Lupin was new to all of this, to being a teacher, and a head of house no less.

He just couldn't help being glad that Harry had ended up in his house.

Not only because he this way had found out about Harry's abuse, and about the boy being his son, but because …

Sighing he took another sip from his tea and then placed the cup back at the table, got up and went over to Harry's room, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed in front of his chest and watching his son.

It was Wednesday, and tomorrow Harry would go back to his classes. He had feared that the child wouldn't be able to, but again he was surprised at Harry's resilience. He had offered Harry that he could stay at home for the reminder of the week, but Harry had refused. Any other child would have taken the chance, but not so Harry, who always was so keen to please, who always was so keen to learn, who always seemed to absorb knowledge like a dry sponge.

Even back, after Quirrel had hexed the boy during defense, when he had feared he would have trouble getting Harry back to his classes, when he had feared that the boy would be too frightened for going back to his classes – he had been wrong.

Harry had been scared upon awakening in the infirmary, and yes, Severus actually _had_ had trouble calming him at first, but the moment Harry had understood that neither had he done something wrong, nor that Quirrel had had any right to curse him, that it had _not_ been a punishment for something, he had been able to, had been able to calm the boy.

And yes, Harry had been scared of his next classes, had been sitting in the great hall at the breakfast table, quieter than usual and with his hands trembling worse than usual. He even had eaten slower than he normally did and Severus easily had noticed that the boy had tried to stall for time, to shove his next class as far away as possible. And well, it was understandable. The child had been cursed in a most cruel way on his second day of school only – _and_by his teacher no less.

And nevertheless Harry _had_ gone back to classes without complaint, without even asking him for a break, even if he had done so in a very hesitant way, reluctantly. And he did so right now again, going back to classes even if he would be allowed to take his time until next week, probably only because he wanted to please him, Severus, his father.

Right now Harry was – again – sitting at the floor, leaning his back against the wooden bedpost, his eyes unfocused.

"Harry?" He asked, quietly, not wanting to startle the boy that was far away as it seemed, and slowly he entered the boy's room. He sat down beside Harry, regarding him with a sideways glance for a moment before simply pulling him close. He was sure that the boy would back away at first, would be startled at first, that he would have to tighten his grip at first – as always. But that didn't happen. The child instead leaned closer, leaned against him with a nearly content sigh, leaned his head against his shoulder tiredly.

"Why?" The boy asked quietly before he could say something. "Why do … why do they hate … why do they hate me so much?" Harry then continued before he could ask what the boy referred to. "I mean … I have … I have seen … have seen all that wizard … all that wizard at the trial … at the trial. And … and there … there are so many … so many of them. And … and here … and here at Hogwarts … here at Hogwarts are so many … so many students …"

He could feel the boy's small hands on his chest when Harry shoved himself upright and for a moment he couldn't breathe when the child looked up at him, openly, the green eyes more expressive than they had been in a long time. He wondered what the boy was on about and he lowered his head to the right a bit, furrowing his brows in a questioning manner.

"There are … there are so … there are so many wizards … and witches. And … and I never knew that there … I never knew that there were so many of … so many of them. But … but if there … but if there are so many, then … then why do they hate … why do they hate me so … I mean …"

Harry drifted off, but Severus knew exactly what he meant, and he sighed.

"Listen, Harry, son." He said, grabbing the boy's chin and lifting his head so the boy had to look at him again. "Just because those muggles said you are a freak, does not mean that you really are one. They were wrong. They lied. There are wizards, and there are muggles and since always the muggles feared the wizards, hated them even, what is the reason why the wizarding society keeps their existence a secret. But that does not mean that it was right what the Dursleys did to you. The wizards are a human race, just like the muggles and other human races. And there always had been a lot of animosity between them, caused by fear, by jealousy and by distrust. But that does not give them the right to torture other races. And most of all – it does not give them the right to bestow torture upon children, upon their own family just because they are different. They were wrong and they did the worst crime imaginable. _They_ are the freaks, while _you_ – are a perfectly normal child."

"But why … why _do_ they … but why _do_ they hate me so much then?" The boy asked, again looking at him with so expressive eyes as if he, Severus, would have the answer to all of his questions, as if he would have the solution to all of his worries, as if he would have the hope to all of his hopelessness, the comfort to all of his fears and pains.

"Because they are cruel." He said. "Because they do not understand that you simply are different than them and because they are not ready to accept that. And – because they are stupid. Because they were too stupid to see what a wonderful child you are. They pity me. I am no one to pity anyone, but they pity me, because they never have given themselves the chance to see you, to enjoy your company, and to hold you, because they missed the chance to see you growing up without pain and fear of them. Because they … you do not know how happy I am to have you in my live, son. You do not know how happy I am to hold you in my arms, to provide you with what you need, to … they do not know what they missed, child."

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_"Drink something."_ Snape had signed.

It was something that had not left his mind since nearly two weeks ago.

_"Drink something. You have not done so thus far."_

He didn't know exactly why Snape had signed it, but he guessed that he hadn't had wanted the others to understand him.

But – Snape, using sign language? Of course he had heard the rumors, that Potter was unable to speak, and of course he had seen that Potter had used sign language in front of the others on the day of their first flying lesson. He also had seen the Slytherin boy using sign language during potions, on that day, when he had answered Snape's question.

But Snape had used sign language too, probably to spare the other boy's feelings.

But it was Snape! It was Snape of all people!

Snape, the dungeons bat that used to startle them all during potions, the one teacher that scared him the most, even more than his grandmother, the one teacher that despised him more than anyone else. Ok, he had to admit that he wasn't good – ok, scratch that – he had to admit that he was absolutely shit at potions, that he messed up the moment he just entered the man's classroom, but the thought that Snape, SNAPE … cared of Potter so much, it was nearly startling, it was … he nearly was jealous. Nearly.

If only his grandmother would care for him so much and would be as gentle with him as Snape was with Potter. or uncle Algie.

Well, uncle Algie definitely was at least funny sometimes, and he at least cared a bit more than his grandmother. And he actually was glad that uncle Algie lived with them now, now, since a year or so, since he was deaf completely.

But if he only had someone like Snape too.

He didn't like Snape, of course not, but he liked how he cared for Potter.

And honestly, he didn't understand Ron. Well, he did understand that Ron didn't like Snape, but he didn't understand that Ron went against Potter in such a way, like he did. Hermione was right – Ron was a real brat.

Neville's gaze went towards the Slytherin table, where Draco sat with the rest of the first year Slytherins, including Dursley.

He didn't know what the muggle boy was doing here, at Hogwarts, and in the house of Slytherin no less, but the rumors that flew through the school, well, it seemed that somehow each year of each house had their own versions of why Dudley Dursley was here, and in Slytherin no less.

Well, he would have to ask the Weasley twins, if he wanted to know more. He knew that if someone got close to the truth, then it would be either Hermione, or the Weasley twins. And where Hermione only had her intelligence, there the Weasley twins had not only their intelligence, but a lot of other sources as well.

Another glance at the Slytherin table showed him that Dursley right now was talking to Nott and Zabini, the two Slytherin snobs aside from Malfoy being ready to talk to a muggle!

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"What do you want, Dursley?" Theodore asked, rather growled at the other boy.

Not because he was a muggle, but because he had hurt Harry in a way not even he could imagine. Just like Draco and Blaze, he wasn't a nice boy, and he knew that. Most of the other students didn't like him. He was ready to sneer at the other houses, especially the Gryffindors, to give out snide comments about them and he didn't care if he actually hurt them. They didn't care if they hurt them, the Slytherins, either, after all. So – why should he care?

But he never would beat another child like Dursley had and he never would watch another child being beaten to such a point where said child had so much long lasting damages, he never would watch another child being starved to near death, being raped. He feared his father, yes, but honestly, if his father would have done that to any other child, he would have come up with something, never mind if he would get beaten because of it.

"Professor Snape said I soon could visit Harry to apologize, and I wanted to give him something." Dursley said and Theodore nearly snorted at the idiot. He didn't like him, he didn't trust him.

Draco had said that he had come a long way, had come to his senses, that he had thought things through and that he had changed, but he didn't believe him, he didn't trust him. He didn't believe that Dursley really had changed and he feared that he just waited for another chance to hurt Harry more.

"_What_ do you want, Dursley?" He repeated, hissing at the other boy in a way he hoped sounded dangerously.

"I just … well, I don't know Harry at all." Dursley said and again he nearly snorted. Of course Dursley didn't know Harry, he only ever had tortured him. "And I don't know what to get him. Professor Snape had said I only should get him something small, but I don't know what. And I … well, I wanted to ask you."

"And why, Dursley, should we help you?" Theodore snarled at the other boy, glaring at him dangerously. If only Draco would be here. Draco was better at dealing with such things than he was. But Draco wasn't here, Draco was with his father until Friday, another point to worry about. "I won't help you, Dursley!" He continued, shoving Draco to the back of his mind for a moment. "Do you really think I would help you coming up with something that would hurt Harry more? Do you think we're so stupid that we won't know what you're up to? Stay away from Harry!"

"Calm down, Theo." Blaze who was sitting beside him said, placing his hand onto his arm and for a moment he flinched, looking startled at his friend, but he had himself back under control quickly.

"What exactly is it you want, Dursley?" Blaze then asked.

"I only want to apologize to Harry." Dursley said and Theodore again narrowed his eyes at the other boy. "I won't hurt him again. I know now that I've done wrong and I just want to apologize to him. And I want to get him something. He never had gotten something from me, or my parents. And I just want to get him something. But I don't want to hurt him with what I get him and so I … well …"

"Listen, Dursley." Blaze said when Dursley stopped mid sentence. "We will help you find something for Harry, but I swear to you, if you hurt him again, never mind if physically or emotionally, then you will learn what it means being a rat in the snake's den."

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_More of the twins and __some written things …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	56. fears of old

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"Listen, Dursley." Blaise said when Dursley stopped mid sentence. "We will help you find something for Harry, but I swear to you, if you hurt him again, never mind if physically or emotionally, then you will learn what it means being a rat in the snake's den."_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter fifty-****six**

**Fears of old**

_It was a heartbreaking moment, when young Mr. Snape looked up at his father, asking him to take him home, signing his __words because he was not able to actually voice his question, the Potions Master and deputy headmaster of Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry engulfing his son in his arms, in his cloak to shield him from the cruelly of the Dursleys who stood trial for neglect, child abuse, rape and tempted murder, and none other than Lucius Malfoy asking the court clerk to get a glass of water for the scared and exhausted child, two men that once had been accused of being Death Eaters, followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, caring more for the Boy-Who-Lived than the ministry had for the past ten years. Read more about the trial on page two and read about …_

With a loud growl Severus threw the Daily Prophet down at the table, cursing the existence of Rita Skeeter to hell and back while Minerva beside him nearly chuckled – and he _knew _that the woman nearly chuckled! Even if she didn't make a sound.

"You should read the article she wrote about the interview the ministry forced you into." Minerva smirked and Severus – yes, in the middle of lunch in the great hall, in front of the entire student body – nearly spit the water he had taken a sip from over the table before he gasped startled. With a look of sheer horror on his face he grabbed the paper back and opened it with nearly frantic movements.

"Page three, Severus." Minerva chuckled, her shoulders shaking with concealed laugher and Severus cast another horrified look at her, knowing that if Minerva laughed, then –

Opening the Daily Prophet at page three, ignoring the article on page two – that even held a picture of him, standing in the courtroom, his arms encircling Harry's small and trembling form – he started reading, the look of horror on his face deepening.

_The wizarding community already has learned that Severus Snape, our well renowned and highly respected Potions Master __and now deputy headmaster that until now has worked as the head of Slytherin at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, has another side to his strict and always so harsh person. A side that rarely anyone has seen so far, a soft and caring side, concerned about the child that now is his son, Harry Snape. Now however, that Professor Snape has indeed accepted the post as deputy headmaster of said school, this reporter has gotten another chance to speak with that mysterious man that without much doubt is the most storied person within entire Britain, that nowadays is on the tip of everyone's tongue. A side that proves the humor this particular professor and teacher is capable to display and of course this reporter is happy to write about the interview the ministry of magic has arranged between the Potions Master this respectable Paper, The Daily Prophet._

_**Daily Prophet**__: Professor Snape, you are the new deputy headmaster at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. Can you tell our faithful readers since how long you are teaching here at this school?_

_**Professor Snape**__: Since far too long._

_**Daily Prophet**__: Very funny, Professor Snape. The rumors say that you are applying for the post of defense against the dark arts teacher each year, what has been the original subject you have been applying for?_

_**Professor Snape**__: Divination of course._

_**Daily Prophet**__: Really? Do you have any seer abilities?_

_**Professor Snape**__: Of course. Each morning I see loss of house points, detentions and complaining students._

_**Daily Prophet**__: Considering your job as a teacher at Hogwarts, I fear that cannot be taken as a real seer ability._

_**Professor Snape**__: I do see it each morning nevertheless and each evening I note that I have been correct._

_**Daily Prophet**__: (laughs) Well, Professor Snape, what made you take the job as Potions Master in the first place?_

_**Professor Snape**__: The free potions ingredients. I have plenty of students to cut into tiny little pieces throughout the year and each year there are new young and tender students coming along. They never die down. Did you know that the younger they are the better potions ingredients they make?_

_**Daily Prophet**__: I can imagine, Professor Snape. Now, what has been the most important reason for you to overtake the post as head of Slytherin added to your post as Potions Master?_

_**Professor Snape**__: The red ink is free for heads of houses. _

_**Daily Prophet**__: Alright, Professor, and what has been the reason for you to overtake that particular house in earnest? Without a humorous remark this time, please._

_**Professor Snape**__: Do you see me laughing?_

_**Daily Prophet**__: (sighs) Well, Professor Snape, you are the deputy headmaster since a few weeks now, what made you accept this lovely post?_

_**Professor Snape**__: The moment I get Minerva off the job I am the headmaster and finally can wear yellow and pink robes._

_**Daily Prophet**__: Excuse me, dear Professor, if I cannot imagine you in yellow or pink robes._

_**Professor Snape**__: You should see my turquoise and violet bed linens – they even have yellow little birds on them._

_**Daily Prophet**__: Professor Snape! _

_**Professor Snape**__: Yes, Miss Skeeter?_

_**Daily Prophet**__: (laughs) Now, that you are the deputy headmaster of Hogwarts, do you plan any changes within the school?_

_**Professor Snape**__: Of course. I will close the school for all students so we teachers can have a bit of peace._

_**Daily Prophet**__: Hardly manageable. What would be a school without students?_

_**Professor Snape**__: A very peaceful place._

_**Daily Prophet**__: Humor aside now, what HAS been the reason as to why you have accepted the post as deputy headmaster?_

_**Professor Snape**__: As I already said, I plan to get Minerva off the job so I can be headmaster and finally wear yellow and pink robes._

_**Daily Prophet**__: Do you plan on wearing a colorful head too, Professor Snape?_

_**Professor Snape**__: Of course not, dear Miss Skeeter. I have already hired the sorting hat for being my headdress._

_**Daily Prophet**__: Why would you do such a thing, Professor Snape?_

_**Professor Snape**__: So I have someone to converse with, I am sure that will make it easier to ignore all the dunderhead's inane babbling._

With a groan of pure frustration he closed the paper and threw it back at the table, ignoring the rest of the '_interview'_. He had been so sure that the Daily Prophet never would publish _this _particular conversation or he would have refused completely in the first place – never mind the ministry. And yet – the blasted paper _had_ published the interview.

He was doomed!

He was absolutely doomed!

Growling darkly he got off his chair and stormed off the great hall, along the corridor that led to the dungeons and to his quarters while cursing Skeeter all the way down. He would skin her alive the moment he got his hands on her and he would cut her into tiny little pieces, would cut her into potions ingredients, and then he would use her in the most nasty potion he could think of.

Preferably polyjuice potion, then he at least could act as her for a few times, destroying her dead memory. What he would be able to do in her body, all the articles he would be able to write in her name!

With a sigh of defeat, knowing that this particular imagination – as pleasant as it had been – never would happen anyway, he opened the door to his quarters, waiting for Harry to come back from the great hall.

He had been impressed at the boy telling him that he wanted to attend lunch in the great hall together with Draco, Theodore and Blaise. Of course he had told him that Draco right now wouldn't be present, that Draco was at Malfoy Manor with his father right now, until Friday, but Harry only had hesitated a short moment, had told him that he wanted to be in the great hall for lunch nevertheless, that the presence of Theodore and Blaise would be alright.

He knew that Harry still was scared, that he still felt unsure, and he knew that Harry only tried to please him. The boy would do anything, just to please him, to gain a bit of affection, to …

Harry would have to learn to do things because he _wanted_ doing them, because he thought it _right_ doing them, and not so that he would get affection, approval. But at the same time he knew that it would take a very long time until his son had learned that. Harry had been denied all affection, mentally as well as physically, for all his life and of course he now would do anything for just a word of praise, for just a hand on his shoulder. Where the child had feared those things in the beginning, he now craved for them so deeply – somehow he feared that Harry one day would make the wrong decision just so that he would get the affection he so desperately needed.

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Harry had come home from the great hall earlier, smiling at him shyly, and nevertheless he had seen the tiredness and the emotional exhaustion on his son's face. The boy still was not comfortable sitting at the Slytherin table in the great hall. And yet – he had managed another meal there, had even managed going down to the dungeons alone, together with Theodore and Blaise only, without him, Severus Snape, his father.

And right now, Harry was sitting at the desk in his room, writing, copying the notes Theodore had taken in those classes which he didn't attend yet. He had asked Harry if it was alright if he was away for a while and Harry had nodded at him. He had told him that he would be back in an hour and that they then could go to the Slytherin common room together. He, Severus for sitting there for a while and Harry for giving the notes back to Theodore and for having an hour with his classmates.

And so – he, Severus, was on his way to the most unlikeliest of all places. For a moment he questioned his own sanity, but then he gave the password and entered the Gryffindor common room, suppressing a grimace at the offending red and gold that decorated the circular room in the Gryffindor tower.

He took a look around the room, noticing one conversation by one ending, fading away into a deep silence, and noticing one student by one looking over at him, startled, curiously, and some even frightened.

His gaze wandered over the Gryffindor students before he walked over to one of the small suits in one corner and without a word he sat down, noticing the Gryffindors throwing curious and startled gazes at each other, and he pulled out his potions journal, reading.

Fred and George Weasley cast startled gazes at each other, just like most of the others, while they watched Snape looking around them before sitting down at one of the abandoned armchairs in one corner.

What in Merlin's name did Snape _do_ here? Here of all people? This was the Gryffindor common room, not Slytherin … and it was Snape, not McGonagall, or Lupin … it was … well, Flint had said that Snape sat into the Slytherin common room, so the students could approach him. But – that here was not the Slytherin common room. It _still_ was the Gryffindor common room. So – why _was_ Snape here?

Ron sat there, open-mouthed, gaping at Snape, his eyes large while blinking stupidly at the man.

"Close your mouth, Ronald, honestly, did your mother teach you no manners?" Hermione asked, shaking her head.

"But … but that's Snape!" Ron gasped, whispered. "What's Snape doing here?"

"It's _Professor_ Snape, Ronald, honestly, and he's reading, something you should do from time to time too." The girl said before taking her book and closing it with a snap. "Really, Ron, sometimes I wonder what is in that head of yours!" She raged before storming away, up to the girl's dormitories.

"Girls!" Ron growled darkly, for the moment distracted from the Potions Master's presence.

"She's right, you know, little brother." George said, approaching Ron.

"Sometimes I wonder how one of our brothers could be as stupid as you seem to be." Fred added.

Of course they were curious too, but one – they already had a good idea as to why exactly Snape was here, and two – they could control their curiosity without displaying it so obviously.

"But what _is_ he doing here?" Ron asked. "Is he even _allowed_ to be in here?"

"Haven't you read the Daily Prophet?" George asked back, rolling his eyes.

"He's looking for new potions ingredients." Fred snickered, clapping his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Don't worry, Ron, he's doing that each year, but he rarely takes red haired students."

"Only if he has a special potion to brew."

"Hm … didn't he say that he has to brew the potion for the green-skin fever, George?"

"Now that you mention it, Fred, I remember he said something like that in our last potions class."

"And … and what does he need for … well …"

"Aconite, black beetles, boomslang skin, cockroaches, daisies, hellbore, knotgrass, lacewing flies, nettles and red haired children of course." Fred said, looking as if he concentrated onto the ingredients, counting them down on his fingers.

"Merlin! That sounds like a really complicated potion!" Ron gasped, shocked. "But … but then he could take you too." He added, sounding so hopeful that George nearly laughed.

"Nope." He said. "We're too old."

"He needs tender children." Fred added. "The younger the better."

Casting another glance at each other, as if coming to a silent agreement, they sighed and both gave a short nod away before walking over to the man. They had to do this, and they knew it, and if Snape had come to give them a chance to approach them, like he did with his Slytherins, then they should take the offered hand.

They just wondered – they were not Snape's Slytherins. They were Gryffindors. But Snape acted as if they were, as if he cared. Never before had he acted so strange. Taking another deep breath, the approached the dark clad man.

"Professor?"

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Professor?" George Weasley asked beside him and he lowered the potions journal he was reading, looked up at the two teens that stood there, definitely nervously.

"Yes, Misters Weasley?" He asked, trying not to show that he was pleased about their approach. He had hoped that they would do so.

"Well, if you had a moment …" George began.

"… then we would like to have a word with you." Fred continued.

"To apologize, actually, sir." George clarified.

"Take a seat, Misters Weasley." Severus pointed his hand towards the armchairs that still were unoccupied. The Gryffindors had successfully avoided coming close to the corner he was sitting in, the Weasley twins the only two who had dared approaching him.

They sat down, nervously, he couldn't help noticing, and once more glanced at each other before taking a deep breath.

"Well, as George already said, we wanted to apologize to you, sir." Fred said, looking at him openly.

"Whatever for, Mr. Weasley?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow. He of course knew why they wanted to apologize, and he really appreciated their move, but he wouldn't tell them just yet.

"Well, the conversation … I mean …"

"What we asked yesterday …"

"You see, sir, we're really sorry …

"… but we don't really have troubles with girls."

"We don't even _have _girls."

"But we were so curious."

"You see, your Slytherins all love you …"

"… and they say that you're always there for them …"

"… never mind what."

"And we just wanted to know …"

"That is … well …"

"We're just sorry, we didn't mean to hurt you."

"Or to betray you or something like that."

"We just wanted to know if you would do the same for others."

"We just wanted to know what it felt like, having an adult that cared."

"Sorry sir." Both said at the same time, ending their ping pong match with words.

"In other words, Misters Weasley." Severus finally sighed. "You decided to fabricate a story you could test your Potions Master with, regardless to the fact that you would lie to him then, regardless to the fact that you would disappoint him with your action and regardless to the fact that you maybe even would lose his trust with your action?"

"I'm sorry, sir."

"I'm sorry, sir."

Both twins said, hanging their heads and really looking miserable.

"What made you change your mind and come here to admit what you did?" He then asked, lifting his eyebrow.

"Well, first – the fact that it simply didn't seem right." George murmured.

"Second, that we thought we betrayed you, we _really_ didn't want to hurt you." Fred added to his brother's words.

"And third – well, you came here, like you did with your Slytherins. And so … well … dunno …" George said, finally looking up at him.

Severus regarded both Weasley twins for a moment before he leaned forwards, before he leaned with his elbows on his thighs, steepling his fingers together.

"Both of you." He the said, his voice stern and resolute. "Will come to my classroom on Monday evening next week. You will need your potions kit but nothing else. Aside from that, you won't get detention, as you approached me by your own free will to confess your wrongdoing, what I appreciate. I can understand that you have been curious and I do understand that you wanted to know what it felt like, having an adult that cared. What is the exact reason as to why I will tutor the both of you in potions – every other Monday evening for the next two years. From your fifth year on, I expect you to be present each Monday evening at my laboratory for my advanced potions group, and if you do well, then I will consider taking the both of you as potions apprentices the moment you start your seventh year. Just so that I can have an eye on the two of you." He added with a smirk.

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Well, the two identical faces that had looked – _gaped_ – at him, had been nearly comical, as well as their identical questions of "you really would do that?" and then both of them jumping up and nearly performing a war dance in front of him. For a moment he even had feared they would dare hugging him, Merlin!

"I assume that means – the two of you accept my offer?" He had asked and both Weasleys had looked at him nearly shocked for a moment before answering with an "of course we do, sir!" before thanking him for the offer. He had waited until the hour had been up, and then he had left the Gryffindor common room as quietly as he had come in.

Longbottom had looked over at him strangely from time to time, as if he had wanted to approach him as well, but he hadn't dared.

For a moment he halted in his steps – not because he had to give the password for his quarters to fetch Harry for his visit to the Slytherin common room, but because he wondered if maybe, just _maybe_, he should repeat his action on Wednesday next week.

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"Dad?" Came a small and timid voice from the door and he looked up at Harry who stood in the doorframe of his room, unsure if he should leave his room or not.

Well, it was eight, and it was Harry's normal time to go to bed but it wasn't curfew yet, and neither had Severus told Harry to go to bed at eight o'clock in the evening. It merely had happened to come a habit, most likely Harry was glad that he could go to bed so early, instead having to be awake and working until late into the night like he had to with his relatives. The boy still tired out quickly.

"Yes, Harry?" He asked, waving the boy over and Harry slowly came closer.

"I … I have … well, you … you said … you said I could … I could do other … other things …" The boy started the moment he stood between his knees, sideways leaning against him, slightly, unsurely, as if he weren't sure if he was allowed, as if he feared he would be pushed away or as he even feared he could be punished for it, like he always did, as if to give as less space to be beaten as possible. The boy still was never sure about that. Not really at least, not as he ought to.

"What exactly are you referring to, child?" He asked, not sure what the boy meant, slowly reaching over to simply touch the boy's lower arm, to encircle the still so small and thin wrist, knowing that he had to move slowly if he didn't want to startle the child away.

"The … the music." Harry softly answered, looking aside. "You … you said … I mean …"

"Yes, I said you could try anything else that might help you." Severus said when Harry drifted off with a sigh of frustration and didn't continue speaking. "And I guess you did try something else?" He then asked, remembering the boy writing the entire day, remembering that Harry had started writing already yesterday evening.

Pulling a carefully folded parchment from his robes the boy nodded and then handed it to him and after a moment of hesitation he carefully took if from the boy's hand, without unfolding it.

"And you want me to read what you have composed?" He asked, assuming that the boy had started to write down his thoughts.

Harry simply nodded at him, his eyes on the socks he was wearing.

"But … but not … not … not now." The boy answered and Severus noticed that Harry's speech had worsened again. Lately he had been able to get out a sentence with less repeating the parts of it and even if, then he always repeated the sentence in the end without any problems. Not so right now, a sign of how nervous the child was about this and he gave a court nod.

"Then I will do so while you sleep, if this is amenable with you." He said.

"'k." Was all Harry said, still leaning against, him, daring to lean against him a bit more, to lean against him with nearly his entire body weight. Not that his body weight was much, the boy was still too thin and too small to begin with and he wondered if it ever would change, but he dared leaning against him a bit more and Severus was glad about that, slowly drew him a bit closer while encircling his arm around the boy's waist.

"Are you tired?" He quietly asked and the boy nodded at him.

"Would you like a cup of hot chocolate before bed?" He asked. "Or would you like going to bed right now?"

"Am … am I … am I weak?" Harry asked, looking up at him for a moment and he lifted his eyebrow at the child, unsure of how Harry had come to this question. Was it something on his own mind? Or had one of the other students said something to the boy?

"Absolutely not." He answered, trying to judge the boy's reaction. "You might tire easily, but I am sure that no other child your age would keep his strength together like you do, Harry. Just two months ago you nearly died, child. And now you are able to attend your classes, even if only partly. You have come a very long way, child, and any other child should first show as much strength and courage in your situation as what you have managed. You are anything else than weak, Harry. What made you think so?"

"I … I don't … I don't know." Harry shook his head, his shoulders slumping. "I … I just … I just was … was … just was thinking …"

"Does it have something to do with what you have composed?" He asked and the boy nearly flinched at the suggestion, a sign for him that he was right.

"Don … don't … don't know … don't know …" Harry answered, averting his eyes again.

"Alright, child." He finally sighed, placing the still folded parchment at his desk beside the essays he had been grading until Harry had come out of his room. "How about we drink a cup of hot chocolate together and then you just go to bed and rest until tomorrow? If I remember correctly, then you wanted to attend classes tomorrow morning."

Harry nearly sighed with relief while nodding at him.

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It hadn't taken Harry long, until he had fallen asleep – on the sofa – after they had been sitting together, drinking a cup of hot chocolate and he had carried the boy to his room, had tucked him in for the night.

A few days, only a few days, and then they would go to the mansion where they would erect the wards so Harry could live with him at Prince Manor safely. Only a few days, and then he would see how the boy would take it, being away from Hogwarts for longer than a few hours. They would stay for the weekend, three days. Harry never before had been from Hogwarts for so long since he had come to the wizarding world.

And he just hoped that everything would go well.

Remembering the parchment Harry had given him, had asked him to only read when he was in bed, he went over to his desk to retrieve it, ignoring the essays he still had to grade. His red ink had come to parchment less and less, since Harry lived with him.

He still graded the essays, and yes, he still did so seriously and carefully, but he didn't write so much nasty comments on them anymore. There were more important things than writing nasty comments on the students' essays, he had to admit. He simply corrected them nowadays and made a short remark here or there.

And he had to admit – it saved him some time. He even could grade them with Harry present this way.

Sitting back into the armchair he had been sitting in previously, he unfolded the piece of parchment and started to read, lifting his eyebrow while doing so. As it seemed, the child had chosen to do a lyric to express his thoughts.

'**Fears of old' **he read.

'when the moon is shining bright  
and the stars are bringing light  
seeing shadows here and much  
feel the wind in a cold touch

I do it … living in the night  
a life you cannot find by light  
for darkness can give you peace  
and this, I do not wish to leave

all the years that has been passing  
no one now should dare to messing  
up my hopes and all my dreams  
and the peace I found in this means

who are you, who is walking there  
whom I cannot see in this dark lair  
who is trying to frighten me in vair  
are you a ghost ? are you a storm ?

even if I cannot see you  
feeling, sensing, I can do  
your steps, your breathe  
even your heartbeat I can hear

where did you come from ?  
what shape do you form ?  
and what do you wish ?  
do you have to disturb my peace ?

I really have got used to you  
I even think I like you, though  
I fear you will not like me much  
for I am no one who you can catch

once I thought to know you well  
a feeling so indescribable like hell  
not long ago I did have it in my mind  
you were not peace, you were not kind

but then you - at least - did leave  
you kept your space, allowed me peace  
I threw you back into the shadows  
so I could enjoy the plain, free meadows

maybe the fear you brought were just illusion  
a word, a joke, and not a good one  
frightening it was, there is no doubt  
but it is gone … gone back to the crowd

I do not really need you sitting at my shelf  
even if you are a part of my self  
I rather enjoy the silence I now hear  
but I remember you, for you were always near

just dare to embrace me one last time  
once more I would kill you, do a crime  
never again I would accept you here  
yet … you will be always near

no one would really understand  
what I see in you, and your hand  
you always have been here for me  
protecting hands you held on me

you made me taking a step back  
you showed me whatever I did lack  
you made me to be careful though  
you showed me what I had to do

you taught me to avoid human well  
you told me they are bad as hell  
you made me to get showing strength  
you showed me to survive all length

and more and more I got aware  
that we belong together - somewhere  
but I'm afraid there is one thing  
that departs us, that cuts this ring

'couse "what reason for ?" I did ask you  
and asking this question, I still do  
but as an answer you could give no word  
you just said "who cares in this world ?"

maybe I will just then know all  
when my last day will begin in this hall  
I know it will hurt what you have to say  
but I am sure it is better that way

for reality shows us every single day  
that we are reaching our limits in every way  
limits we have made with our own hands though  
which suddenly we cannot break through

but one thing I really did learn  
what ever I'll do, out of this I will earn  
that for I got rid of you, threw you back  
and there, you can stay with a broken neck

for I did overcome you, I broke the wall  
for no one is to blame who does fall  
just those who stay on the ground  
they will move in a circle all around'

Taking a deep breath he gritted his teeth. Not that the words the boy had written were … he had read it in one go and he had to admit – for a child, an eleven year old boy, it was a remarkable lyric, something he had not expected. Those words showed how deep the child was thinking, how deep his understanding was and how well he could …

But they disturbed him at the same time.

'_Seeing shadows here and much'_ the boy had written. Does he still see those shadows? Those shadows of fear? Even with him? In their quarters? In their home?

Alright, stupid question, he thought. Of course Harry still saw those shadows. The boy had come a long way, yes, and he knew that, but at the same time he also knew that two months were nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the years of abuse the boy had endured, years of the cruelest abuse one ever could think of.

'_I really have got used to you'_ Harry had written. Had he gotten so used to it, that he never would be able to overcome it? To move on? He knew that the abuse had broken his son, he could see it every day, in every careful gaze the boy regarded him with, in every careful word the boy said, in every wary movement the boy made, in his guarded stance and appearance. But would the boy ever overcome it? Would Harry be able to get used to a safe live?

'_Once I thought to know you well'_ the boy had written and yes, he had to admit, if someone knew fear and terror, then it was Harry. But no child should know such things. No child should know such fear and terror, and it only showed how much out of hands this all had gone.

'_B__ut I remember you, for you were always near'_ it only was another sentence that did not set Severus at ease in any way and neither did the _'yet … you will be always near'_. It – the fear, the terror, the pain, hunger, isolation, whatever you could name it – it always had been there, as if there was nothing else Harry could remember, and the boy definitely thought, feared, that it always would be there, that he never would find peace and freedom and he started to understand the boy's question earlier.

There however was a part that disturbed him more than anything else.

'_you always have been here for me__  
__protecting hands you held on me_

_you made me taking a step back__  
__you showed me whatever I did lack__  
__you made me to be careful though__  
__you showed me what I had to do_

_you taught me to avoid human well__  
__you told me they are bad as hell__  
__you made me to get showing strength__  
__you showed me to survive all length'_

How deep did a child's fears have to run so he would see those fears as a shelter, as something that protected him? Of course he knew how fear worked. Of course he knew that – if you feared a dangerous animal then you would not go near it and it couldn't harm you if you were not near. Of course he knew that if you feared someone, then you would stay out of this one's way so he couldn't harm you. And of course he knew that if you feared fire then you would stay away from it so it wouldn't burn you.

Fear was a normal human reaction to some things that were, or could be, dangerous and it prevented living beings from staying away from it. But for a child to know those things, how deep did this fear have to run? To acknowledge that this fear actually protected you, that this fear – in the end – had made him strong, had kept him alive? And would he ever be able to battle that fear? Would he have a chance to destroy this fear and to win against it?

With one thing however, the Potions Master did not agree.

'_Limits we have made with out own hands though'_ Harry had written, but that was not true. Harry had not made his limits with his own hands. Vernon and Petunia Dursley had made those limits. They had made Harry acting as he did now. They had caused the boy to fear crowds, to have an eating disorder, a sleeping disorder, to … whatever limits Harry had, he had not made them with his own hands, but his own aunt and uncle had made them with their hands.

Would he be able to expand those limits?

Harry was able to visit some of his classes, after two months, _some_ of his classes – but it was a limit they had overcome. And the boy was able to speak, it was another limit they had overcome. The boy was able to write and to write down his thoughts and this too was a limit they had over come.

So – there were some limits they had already overcome, after two months of hard work, but they had overcome some of them.

That gave hope, didn't it? If they had overcome some of those limits, within two months, then surely they would overcome more of them? Then surely they would be able to overcome Harry's fears too? Then surely they would be able to get Harry – one day – to become a child that could enjoy his life? Did Harry already enjoy his life? Was Harry already happy?

He knew that Harry definitely was better, that he – at least – liked him, Severus, that he was not so scared anymore, that he had some of his life back, that he … that he simply was better. But was Harry happy? With his life? Casting a thoughtful glance at the door that led to Harry's room, that was open, he wondered if maybe he should ask the child this question. If he was happy.

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Potions again, transfiguration and __a lesson in flying …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	57. the reason of

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_He knew that Harry definitely was better, that he – at least – liked him, Severus, that he was not so scared anymore, that he had some of his life back, that he … that he simply was better. But was Harry happy? With his life? Casting a thoughtful glance at the door that led to Harry's room, that was open, he wondered if maybe he should ask the child this question. If he was happy. _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter fifty-****seven**

**The reason of …**

It was Thursday, and it was the day Harry would go back to classes.

It wasn't the first time that Harry would go back to classes, Severus frowned at himself, but honestly – after all that had happened …

He had thought that Harry would have a peaceful life, now that he was away from the Dursleys, now that he was at Hogwarts, now that he was in the wizarding world where he belonged to, now that he had custody over the child that was his son.

Of course he always had known that the abuse Harry had been through at the hands of his relatives for ten years would leave scars, and not only the visible scars all over his body, especially his back, but invisible scars, scars on his soul, on his core, on his mind, scars no one would be able to see or to heal, scars that would remain lifelong as well as would those scars that were visible all over his body.

Yes, they would be fading with time, the visible scars as well as the invisible ones, they would change from the soft pink lines to silver ones, but he knew – they always would be there, they would remain for the reminder of the child's life. It simply had been too much the boy had been through in such a short time of his life.

But he had thought that now he would have time to heal properly, that now he would be able to rest and to take it easy, to – simply have a normal childhood, if that ever would be possible in Harry's case, but as normal as possible at least. But no – again the child had to suffer, again the boy had to endure what no child should have to endure.

He remembered Minerva telling him that Harry's first class of transfiguration had went well, as had charms, according to Filius, and herbology. And he of course knew that their private lessons always had gone rather well too. But there had been Weasley who had offended and scared him by taking his book bag on his first day back to classes. Not to mention all the strain he had been through on that day, to deal with all those other children, in the great hall, in the classroom.

And then there had been defense against the dark arts during which he had been cursed by Quirrel and he had feared that he would have troubles getting the child back to classes after _this_ experience. Again he remembered how much the boy had hurt, bad enough so he had resorted to using the element of air to create a shield around him that had thrown Quirrel across the classroom with a force that had rendered the man unconscious.

After that Quirrel had managed to escape the hospital wing to let in the troll on Halloween, during the feast – what had led to Harry, Draco, Dursley and Granger facing a full grown mountain troll in the girl's bathroom. A dangerous thing that could have had Harry, that could have had _all_ of them dead and he still believed that they were lucky that they still lived to tell the tale, fools that they were.

Well, Quirrel was at St. Mungos now, in a closed ward, and still no one knew what exactly was wrong with the man. Not because of the blow to his head he had taken when he had flown across the classroom and had hit his head against the blackboard, no. But still no one knew why exactly he had started cursing Harry in the first place, and so vehemently at that, and still no one knew what exactly was the reason as to why Harry always had had such a strong headache in the man's presence.

Well, now there was Bowtie, Sale Bowtie, who taught defense against the dark arts and he at least _seemed_ to be a rather decent teacher in this area. None of his Slytherins had complained about him for being incompetent like they had with Quirrel, and that at least meant something.

Well, and then there had been the day Harry had fallen from that blasted broom after Longbottom had managed to lose control of his during the first flying lesson, Harry having a right fright and getting injured again, their trip to Diagon Alley where the boy had not only had a very difficult and strenuous day but a breakdown in Herbaceous' shop after seeing the bat, getting caught up in memories of his uncle killing his spider while forcing him to watch the animal being burnt to death. The visit from child welfare Harry had to go through, during which he had been scared out of his wits, afraid of being alone with Miss Harvest for answering some questions without him, Severus, being present.

Not to mention him, Severus, being arrest and then being away for hours and hours during the trial until he finally had been able to go back home, where he had found the boy in a daze, unresponsive, catatonic even, and he really had feared that this last blow had finally destroyed his son, had finally rendered him to a case for nursing care. Merlin! The boy hadn't been able to even eat alone, let himself dress or do anything else than staring ahead with lifeless eyes!

And last but not least – Harry's latest setback, after the trial against his relatives he'd hat to attend. This had been a setback where he really had feared he would lose the boy again, like back then after he had been arrested, where he had feared that this last blow would destroy the child.

But it hadn't. Despite everything, the boy had recovered.

And not to forget all the other things that seemed so small and normal to Harry but had complicated the child's life nevertheless at the same time. First of all, all those memories that haunted the child during day and night, Harry's inability to speak, to write or to use signs at the beginning, the constant fear the child had felt, _still_ felt, the weakness after years and years of starvation, the fact that he had to relearn eating, the tiredness because of nightmares that kept the boy from a good night's sleep, and last but not least – the pain all those beatings had caused throughout the years. And Severus knew that Harry had been in very much pain in the beginning, despite the potions he had given him. Merlin, he knew that the child _still_ was in some sort of pain, that his joints and his back, especially his shoulders, still hurt to some extend. He knew it from the occasional wince during their physical exercises the child gave away whenever the pain got too much for him to keep up his mask any longer.

And yet – against all odds this particular child was able to again go on, was ready to again attend classes.

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"Today's potion is a coughing solution." Severus said with his usual dark gaze that swept over the students the moment he had entered the classroom and quickly strode to his desk. "Read chapter fourteen in your potions books before you start preparing the ingredients. Anything else that might be relevant to that potion including a copy of the recipe is on the board. Take notes as you will write an essay on the use of this potion, its history and how to brew it – two feet to be handed in on Monday morning. You have an hour, begin."

He graded some of the essays for about a quarter of an hour until the last of the students had finished their reading and got up to get their ingredients before he started walking through the classroom, watching them for mistakes. It wasn't a really complicated potion, but it was one that could be dangerous is brewed the wrong way.

Walking past Harry he noticed the boy's fingers trembling while handling the knife and he frowned. He knew that Harry's hands still shook when he cradled his mug of tea or any other things concerning nourishment, but the child normally was rather comfortable while brewing a potion with him in his laboratory.

But then – right now they were not in his private laboratory where no other students had access to, but in the classroom filled with other students and he sighed at the thought that maybe Harry never would overcome his fear of other human beings around them, never mind if they were adults or children and never mind their gender either.

Bending down towards the boy he placed a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder.

"There is nothing you have to be afraid of, Harry, you are doing fine." He quietly whispered into the boy's ear and after a short moment during which Harry stiffened at the touch of his hand on his shoulder the child relaxed and nodded at him before wordlessly going back to cut the fennel on his chopping board into fine slices. He nevertheless could feel the boy being anything else than relaxed. "And take a drink from your flask, Harry." He quietly added.

He had to correct a few students in their way of cutting ingredients and he had to stop some of them from adding them to their potion too soon, but otherwise everything went rather well.

Until he went by Theodore's cauldron which looked well done.

He heard a soft sizzling and instinctive he reached out into the direction it came from, directly in front of him, grabbing the student whose cauldron sizzled at the neck of his robe and pulling him away from the exploding cauldron while casting a shield charm at the same time, only then noticing that it was Harry whose robes he had in a tight grip, standing in front of him and looking up at him with clear fright in his much too large eyes.

And for a moment he couldn't get the picture of the boy being injured by the exploding cauldron out of his mind.

"What in Merlin's name were you thinking, Mr. Snape!" He hissed in a mixture of horror and relief. "Detention, for not paying attention to what you were throwing into this cauldron of yours!"

Only then he realized what he had said and what kind of tone he had used towards his son that had been scared and nervous enough in the first place, but gritting his teeth in anger at himself he knew that he couldn't make it undone and he released the neck of Harry's robes, shifted his hand to the boy's shoulder to comfort the trembling boy, sighing with frustration at his own stupidity.

"Stay after class, please." He added in a much calmer tone while looking into the still so large green eyes that held nothing else than clear panic, his dark eyes softening. "You may start with your essay until then."

With one last squeeze he released Harry's shoulder and lowered the shield he had cast, waving his wand at the mess to clean it away. Another wave of his wand had the boy's cauldron floating towards the sink, knowing that Harry right now would be too scared to walk through the classroom in plain sight of the other students to get his cauldron there.

Cursing himself silently he went back to walking along the isle between the Slytherin side and the Gryffindor side of the classroom.

It was one thing acting out of his instinct to grab a student on his neck to prevent him from getting injured during a potions accident incase his shield charm wasn't fast enough, but it was another thing if this child was one as abused as Harry was and then adding to the fright with hissing at him angrily.

He would grab him again if the situation would repeat itself, just to make sure the boy wouldn't be hurt, but he really should not have let his worry and his horror at the picture he'd had in his mind momentarily get to him and to hiss at him in this way. He could have simply told him to stay after class or he could have given Harry detention in a more controlled voice.

Yet – he hadn't.

And he knew how Harry surely must feel about it. The boy's trust in adults, even in him, was frail at the best and this child always feared he would disappoint him, would anger him, would make mistakes. He would have to ensure the boy that he was not angry at him, that he still loved him, maybe even that he still was his son.

Groaning with a new wave of frustration he closed his eyes momentarily when he had his back on the students, realizing that – yes, it actually was possible that Harry feared he had lost him as a father, that he had lost his love, just because he had made a mistake in potions.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"What has happened?" He asked when Harry and Theodore stood in front of his desk after the class.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but then he closed it again. He lifted his hands to sign something, but then he lowered them back to his front where they played with the hem of his robes nervously. Finally he shook his head, indicating that he had no answer to that question, lowering his eyes.

"You have been overly nervous while preparing your potions ingredients, Harry." He finally said. "Might it be possible, that you have been a bit too nervous and that you got the order of the ingredients mixed up while adding them?"

Again the boy opened his mouth to say something, glancing up at him briefly before closing it again, but this time he didn't even try to lift his hands to sign anything and he simply sighed in frustration while averting his eyes again.

Going down onto one knee in front of the child so he was eye level with his son he extended his hand and – knowing that Harry would be scared enough to fear a punishment, to fear being beaten – he slowly and gently placed his fingers under the boy's chin and lifted his head so he had to look at him. The boy flinched back nevertheless at the hand that came close to his face and Severus had to grit his teeth once more while he forced himself to go on with the movement and keeping his frustration at the boy's flinch out of his face.

"I do know that you are afraid of your regular classes, that you are more at ease in your private lessons, but you do handle all of this very well nevertheless, maybe too well." He softly said. "You are strong, Harry, and I am proud of you, but I do not want you to ever feel that you have to hide your emotions or pretend that things are well if they are not. Do you understand?"

A reluctant nod was the only sign Harry gave away, the fear in his eyes not ceasing.

"You have made a mistake, like thousands of students before you, and we will go through it this evening so to prevent such in future." He said, his hand still under the boy's chin. "Nothing happened, and no punishment will be set. We simply will go over your steps in brewing. And neither will you lose me, Harry, nor my approval. You are still my son and I still do love you. You do know that, don't you?" He asked, his voice still soft and gentle, piercing the still frightened green eyes with his dark ones.

This time it took a few moments until there came an unsure nod from the boy and he sighed, knowing that he simply would have to show the boy that he meant it.

"Good." He nevertheless said. "Are you ready to go to your next class, or would you rather go back home?"

At the startled look on Harry's face when he shook his head he immediately knew to which part of the question he shook his head. The boy didn't want to go home, he wanted to finish his morning classes, fearing that he would disappoint him even more if he went home now, if he were not strong enough to absolve his morning classes and he sighed.

"Alright." He finally agreed. "Drink something now, and I do want you to have a drink from your flask during transfiguration every now and then as well, Harry. Professor Lupin does know that I want you to drink enough and he will say nothing against it." He said, reaching out a glass of water in which he had added half a vial of a calming draught and a muscle relaxing potion.

"And I do not want you wandering the halls alone either, Harry." He said, not telling the boy that still the potion Narcissa had sent Draco in his father's name had not been found yet. It only would frighten the already nervous child even more and he did not wish this, but he did give a meaningful glance towards Theodore with whom he had talked about this shortly before Harry had been back to classes for the first time.

Again Harry nodded at him and he was sure that the boy would not go against _this_ particular rule he had set simply out of fear.

"Good." He continued. "And if you feel unwell, if you hurt or if you are too tired, then I want you to come to either my classroom or home. The same goes if you get into a panic attack over something, _anything_. Did I make myself clear?"

Again Harry nodded, hesitantly and unsurely again this time and his worries deepened.

Theodore smiled at Severus "I promise Professor, any sign that Harry is having a panic attack or anything else, and me or one of the others will bring him back here."

Severus shook his head. "I guess this father thing is just turning me into Molly." He said, feeling nervous still despite the joke he had made. "Have a good time in your next class, Harry."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Great! That was absolutely great! Two detentions in one day! Harry Snape, the offspring of the Snape family, the son of Professor Snape, was not only unable to brew a potion properly, but was also unable to get to his classes in time and got two detentions in one day! Not to mention the other lacks of ability such as accept being touched, eating, sleeping and so on.

He sat down into his chair and got out his text book with trembling hands and he didn't want this day to go on.

With a frown Remus watched Theodore Nott and Harry enter the classroom – nearly ten minutes late, and he wondered what the two boys had done to be that late. Both boys looked rather troubled, he noticed, Harry ill and Nott worried. It wasn't the first time that he saw Harry, and so he of course was prepared for the ill look in the boy's face. He had seen him in the book shop, together with Severus last month, and he had seen him during breakfast and lunch at some days during the last few days. So – no, he really was not surprised at the pale and worn face Harry still showed. But right now he looked as if he was even more scared and uncomfortable than normally and he wondered why.

"You are late." He said when both boys passed his desk with an apology coming from Nott and a scared look at him from Harry. Of course he knew that Harry had had troubles speaking for a long time and that he only recently had started doing so again, and so he didn't expect a verbal apology from the boy. The one Nott had given him was enough for him. And nevertheless he knew that he couldn't simply ignore it. "Any explanation to that?" He therefore asked.

"No, sir." Theodore answered at the pleading look Harry threw towards him.

They had left the potions classroom in time so that they could have made it to the transfiguration classroom without being late – if Harry had not been as slow as he actually had been, and if Harry had not made a stop to suddenly run to the next toilet, just in time to lose his breakfast.

He had considered getting Harry back to Professor Snape, so he could get Harry home, but Harry had been shaking his head, had cleaned himself and had then gone to the transfiguration classroom – where they arrived ten minutes late. And now he was sure that Professor Lupin would have accepted it if he had told him that Harry had been ill, but the other boy shook his head and he could understand his wish to keep this particular action for himself. He too would not want the Gryffindors knowing about him embracing the porcelain and puking his insides out. And so he kept it to himself, even if he knew that they would get detention for being late – what would be Harry's second detention today, and he sighed.

Remus knew that they'd had potions before and that maybe Severus had kept Harry behind for a few words before he went on to his next class. It wasn't a secret after all that Harry was led back to classes slowly and that he was scared about them. But he also was sure that Severus would have send them on their way in time so they could get to his classroom without being late, and even if he hadn't, then he would have given them a pass.

"Do you have a pass from Professor Snape for being late?" He nevertheless asked, even if Nott had admitted that they didn't have a reason for being late, and again the boy shook his head.

"Then I fear that I have no other choice than giving the both of you a detention." He said, knowing that if he gave Nott a detention, then he would have to give Harry one too, even if he did not wish doing this. "I will let you know the time for your detention throughout the day. Get to your seats please so we can continue with the lesson."

They had started transfiguring larger objects than the fir needles into sewing needles and buttons into plates. Today they were to transfigure a cup into a glass and Harry – again – got frustrated. His glass, over and over, had a handle! It was a glassy handle, but it was a handle when the glass wasn't supposed to have one. And so he transfigured it back into the cup and tried it again – with the same outcome, the glass had a handle.

"This is well done, Harry." He heard Professor Lupin say from behind and startled he jumped, turned around to look at the man, throwing down the – yet again – transfigured glass with the startled movement and he could feel his insides squirm. Finally managing to look into the man's face he could see the brows furrowing and he flexed his muscles, his body going rigid in the attempt to keep himself still instead of fleeing the room.

Again there was something he had dropped.

It was a glass this time instead of a cup, and there had been nothing inside the glass this time.

And it was Professor Lupin who was present this time instead of Professor McGonagall.

Would he be as patient as Professor McGonagall had been back then?

Would Professor Snape learn about it?

Would he again do something as frightening as he had done back then?

Remus not only could see the terror washing over Harry, he actually could smell it coming from the boy in waves and he didn't understand it. Of course he knew that Harry had been ill, seemed to still be ill, that he had been abused by his relatives for a long time, but he simply didn't know all that had happened and so his mind simply couldn't understand everything that went through Harry's mind.

And therefore he just didn't understand why the terror reached a full blown panic.

Blinking in confusion he repaired the glass that now was back to a cup and he summoned it, placed it back at the desk in front of the boy that was ready to jump up and to bolt from the room.

"Try it again, Harry." He said, pointing at the cup, but nothing happened, Harry just stared at him with wide, startled and scared eyes.

Well, that was one of those moments he had feared when he had accepted this post, one of those moments he didn't know what to do, and he had known that those moments would come.

He hadn't known that it would happen with Harry, such a moment, but he had known that they would come in the first place, those moments in which he wouldn't know what to do.

And what was he to do with a student that was scared into freezing? He could walk away and ignore it, but it didn't feel right. He could try to force the boy out of it, but it again didn't feel right, not to mention that the boy surely wouldn't want the attention he get from the other students. So – what to do? He was at a loss.

"Harry?" He heard Nott's voice from beside Harry and at the same time he noticed that Crabbe and Goyle stood close too, as well as Blaise and for a moment he wanted to say something, to order them back to their places, until he noticed that they – and effectively so – blocked the Gryffindors from gaping and goggling at Harry. And so he allowed it for now.

"Just transfigure the cup back into the glass, Harry." Nott said. "It was great. I didn't manage yet."

"Barely one managed." Crabbe growled darkly and he nearly smiled at the frustration the boy displayed.

Yes – barely one had managed. Their glasses either were milky or otherwise coloured, or they were so thin and perforated that they would leak any fluids within. And Crabbe's one had been - without room to fill anything in, in the first place. It had been a cylinder filled with – simply green coloured glass.

However, the conversation around him seemed to at least pull Harry out of his stupor and after he blinked at him for a moment he lifted his wand, hesitantly, still terror radiating off the boy, and pointed it at the cup that immediately turned into a clear glass – with a handle.

"You do know, Harry, that a glass _can_ have a handle, don't you?" Remus asked, just to assure the boy of something, anything. He didn't like the terror that still radiated off him and he still didn't know how to handle the situation.

For a moment he wondered – and not for the first time – if it had been really such a wise decision from Albus to get him for the post of a teacher, and for the post of the head of a house no less. He wasn't a teacher. He hadn't learnt how to handle children. And he definitely hadn't learnt how to deal with such a situation. "This was again very well done, especially as you have not said your spell aloud, Harry."

Harry answered nothing to this, just averted his eyes, but he could see him watching him warily nevertheless, hidden beneath his lowered eye lashes.

Harry could hear Weasley snorting angrily as Professor Lupin praised him yet again and he gritted his teeth even tighter together, his ears burning and he didn't dare lifting his head at the others. One thing was sure – the professor hadn't made his situation easier, not to mention the punishment he would have to face at destroying the cup, glass, whatever and the two detentions he had gotten in one single day.

He knew that Professor Snape would not be pleased about this. He wasn't a simple student, he was the son of a professor and he knew that he should act more responsible and more … more … more anything, than the others. But he not only had ruined his potion, his father had had no other chance than giving him a detention, and the entire class had been witness to it. He only could imagine how the older wizard must have been feeling about _that_. And then, not half an hour later had he gotten another detention for being late. And now he hadn't managed to transfigure the cup into the glass either, had even broken the item with his clumsiness, no – Professor Snape wouldn't be pleased and he was extremely happy when the lesson finally ended and he could leave the room, what he did immediately.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Outside the classroom he leaned against the wall, his legs trembling, and he took a deep breath. Why had he been so foolish today? Potions and Transfiguration had been going rather well last time – so why had he been so stupid today? Ruining a potion, failing in transfiguration and destroying a class, getting himself into two detentions within an hour.

"You're blocking my way, Snape!" He heard Weasley hissing beside him and again he was startled out of his wits for a moment, unable to say anything, unable to even think, before he again prepared himself, stiffened his shoulders and gritted his teeth, remembering how Dudley had punched him once and he had bitten his tongue because he had not been prepared. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice, surely not. It had hurt like hell.

And getting himself back under control he found that he was able to think again, wondering for a moment how he could be in Weasley's way if he stood leaning against the wall. The corridor was wide enough so that a crowd of students could pass him without troubles. Troubles – he knew, that was the only thing Weasley wanted to cause right now. Troubles. And so he simply pushed himself off the wall and started walking away. He wouldn't …

"Oh no, you won't." Weasley said and grabbed Harry's arm.

It was the worst thing he could have done and in the next moment Harry's books fell to the floor while he jumped back in panic, not knowing what to do, knowing if he defended himself he would be only punished more than the punishment he already faced for failing do complete the chores he had been set. Uncle Vernon would kill him for fighting back against Dudley and aunt Petunia surely wouldn't allow him out of his cupboard for a week, a week without anything to …

"Release him at once, Weasley!"

Dudley hadn't been planning of coming to the transfiguration corridor, but he just wanted to see the students coming out of this classroom that still was denied of him. Professor Snape had said they would talk about him visiting transfiguration and charms, and defence against the dark arts, visiting all the magical classes. But until then – he was denied them and he just had wanted to watch them coming out of this classroom, catching a bit of the … feeling they radiated.

He wasn't sure what exactly it was. It couldn't be magic, as he himself was a muggle and so he surely wouldn't be able to feel the magic they all radiated after such a class more than they did normally. But he simply knew that he could feel _something_ radiating off them whenever they had done any magic.

And he hadn't known whom of them had transfiguration right now either, he just had wanted to watch them leaving the classroom, just once. he never before had done that.

But then he had seen Harry leaving the classroom, leaning against the wall, trembling, and he could see the fear and tiredness in his cousin's face. Had he always looked so scared and tired? What had happened that he looked so scared right now? What had happened that he leaned against the wall, trembling, and so –

Weasley came from the classroom, walking straight to Harry, telling him that he was in his way and he snorted for a moment. How stupid was Weasley? Couldn't he come up with a more intelligent way of bullying others? But then he could see Harry jumping, his books falling to the floor and he realized that Weasley had taken his arm after Harry had started to walk away. And he knew how frightened Harry must feel right now.

He remembered him, holding Harry in the same way, he remembered him, punching Harry, sometimes while his friends had held the smaller boy, and suddenly he felt ill, suddenly realizing that … Harry never had had a chance. If he hadn't defended himself, then he had been beaten up by him and his friends. And if Harry had defended himself, then he had been punished by his father later on with a beating that drew blood. Never mind what, Harry had been the one on the losing end.

And then he suddenly knew what he had to do and he walked over to the red head.

"Release him at once, Weasley!" He said, taking the other boy at his shoulder and turning him away from Harry.

"Or what, Dursley?" Weasley asked, a sneer on his face. "What will you do if I don't? You're not a wizard, you can't use magic."

"Maybe he can't." Dudley heard Nott's voice from behind. "But I can. And honestly, even Dursley would be able to keep you from hurting Harry, even without using magic. You're stupid if you think you're better than him just because you're a wizard."

"And _that _coming from a Slytherin." Weasley sneered. "I'm so scared now."

"Just piss off, Weasley." Nott growled darkly and Weasley finally turned and stumped off, down the corridor.

"I …" Dudley said, hesitating, lifting his hand towards his face, simply to run it over his face, not to hurt Harry, but the other boy nevertheless flinched away from him and he realized another thing today – Harry was still afraid of him, and maybe always would be. But as much as this thought would have pleased him in the past, it now made him only sad. He didn't want Harry being scared of him. He wanted Harry to trust him and … to simply be his cousin and family.

And knowing that he couldn't force Harry right now, that he wouldn't do any good if he did, he took a step backwards.

"I understand." He simply said. "And I'm sorry." And with a sad sigh he walked down the corridor, forcing himself to not looking back.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Theodore asked, Blaise, Gregory and Vincent standing around them meanwhile as well, blocking Harry from the rest of the Gryffindors that spilled out of the classroom right now, Pansy and Millicent meanwhile picking up the books that had fallen out from Harry's book bag when he had let go of the handle.

Harry's gaze fell onto the book that lay atop of the others, covered in ink from the ink pot that had broken and spilled when it fell to the floor and he paled even more.

"He … he'll … he'll kill me …" He couldn't help whispering and Theodore didn't know for a moment whom he meant, if he meant Weasley, but then his eyes followed Harry's and he understood.

"He won't." He said, reaching out to touch the other boy's shoulder, to reassure him, but Harry immediately skittered back against the wall again, his green eyes wide with fear barely held in check and he lowered his hand before he touched his friend. "It wasn't your fault, if he will kill someone, then he'll kill Weasley, but not you."

Harry looked at his best friend's eyes and he didn't know what to do. His head was dizzy again and as Theodore moved closer it turned to a firm nausea and he struggled not to retch with nervousness while he wondered if this day could go any more wrong.

"Let's get you back home." Theodore simply suggested, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get Harry to the great hall for lunch right now, but Harry shook his head at him.

"N-no …" He whispered. "N-no … I … I'll … I'll g-go … go al-al … go al-one. Pl-please."

Not knowing what to do, but knowing that if they pressed Harry right now the other boy most likely would lose it completely, they backed away and simply let him pass, watching him slowly going down the corridor, exchanging worried glances.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry walked down the corridor, knowing that his class mates' eyes watched him leaving and he forced himself to walk calmly, despite what he felt. He really had messed up and he really was in so much trouble right now, he didn't even know where to begin listing it. And he didn't want to face his father, while at the same time he wanted to be embraced by the older wizard's strong arms, wanted to feel the warmth the man always offered, wanted to feel the Professor's hand running up and down his back. He would take any punishment, if his father just took him into his arms afterwards, like he had done last time, when he had spanked him, after the troll incident. Just for a few minutes, so he would have something he could dream of in the evening when he lay in his bed, something he could remember later when he was locked away in the cupboard in his room.

As he was far enough not to be seen he began to run frantically and he was very grateful that Severus was in the great hall right now, having dinner with the rest of the school. He wanted to be alone. To be left alone. He needed to be left alone. He needed to think, and he didn't stop until he reached the door of their quarters and pressed his hand quickly to the dark wooden door.

Quickly he slipped inside the moment the door opened and he closed it behind him, leaned to the wall for another moment, his heart pounding furiously.

As his heart had calmed down a bit he went into his room, put his bag on the chair in front of his desk and lay on the floor on his side, curling into a tight ball on his favourite carpet just in front of the fireplace, leaned his head on his elbow and stared blankly at the flames. He didn't cry, just lay there in pain, emotional pain, unsure and frightened.

It just hurt. Knowing that most likely his father would …

Closing his eyes he refused to think of what exactly his father would do the moment he came back to their quarters, the moment he would have to face him, and to tell him what he had done and …

He just was still dizzy, and nauseous, and terribly cold. And he missed his father who was in the great hall right now, not here, not knowing if it really was such a terrible thing that the Professor wasn't here yet, or if it wasn't a good thing as he would have a few moments more of thinking of him as his father yet. He maybe wouldn't be allowed to after the punishment.

Drawing the blanket off his bed and down to the floor hi wrapped the fabric around himself, cocooned himself as best as he could, but it didn't help, he still was cold and he began to tremble.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Severus went down the dungeons corridors to his quarters, his brows furrowed.

Harry had not been at the great hall for lunch and he nearly had been able to feel the tension. Glares that were send over to the Gryffindor table, towards Weasley actually, and looking over at that table, he could see the red head growling angrily at Thomas and Finnigan.

His Slytherin first years looked frustrated and scared at the same time, unsure and worried, even Dursley, and he knew that Dursley had been involved at whatever had happened – and therefore he knew that it had happened either before or after transfiguration, most probably after, as otherwise Lupin would have called for him to get Harry. All the teachers knew that they had to call him if something happened during their classes or if Harry arrived there already upset.

And Lupin _had _not called for him. But as the wolf had not been present during lunch, he had no way of being sure, and his first year's snakes had left the great hall before he could walk over to their table to ask them of anything.

Entering his quarters he gazed around, and walking over to the boy's room, he could see him laying in front of the small fireplace he had installed in the boy's room a few days ago, on the floor, curled into a tight ball and covered with his blanked while shivering nevertheless, and with a frown he went closer, knelt down in front of the boy that had his face hidden within the folds of the blanket.

"You didn't have lunch." He said, trying to sound not harsh. "Why?"

Harry was still thinking about all the things he could be punished with, when Severus got home after lunch and then entered his room, and his stomach clenched even more, the nausea rolling over him in waves. He had done some many wrongs today, so many mistakes, maybe the Professor would punish him with different things.

And now he didn't have an answer to the question his father had asked, didn't know how to explain all his misdeeds to him. But he knew that he should, because if he didn't, and then Professor Snape would find out later, then he would be just the more angry. But he didn't know how, he didn't dare to, he simply was scared, and when he saw the Professor's hand nearing his shoulder to grab it, he couldn't help flinching away, croaking out a weak and scared "p-pl-please … p-please don-don't …".

Severus frowned and immediately he pulled his hand back, understanding, and he forced himself to conceal the anger he felt. Anger that wasn't directed at Harry, but at the Dursleys, at himself, at Weasley …

Gritting his teeth he simply completed the movement he had stopped earlier and touched the boy's shoulder, pulling the blanket away from him and he grabbed both of the thin shoulders and pulled him up from the floor.

"What happened, Harry?" He asked while pulling the boy closer into his arms, encircling the thin body and he actually could feel the boy melting in his arms, pressing himself against his chest, grabbing his robes in a death grip and he tightened the grip he had around the small from, getting up from the floor and sitting onto his son's bed, keeping the child in his arms all the while.

"Harry?" He asked, looking down when no answer came. "Tell me what happened, child."

"I … I've … I've … 've been … I've been … 've been b-bad … been bad …" Harry finally answered, speaking rather to his chest than to him, his speech worse than ever and Severus couldn't help worrying.

"Because of the potion?" He asked, furrowing his brows again. "No, Harry, you have not been bad. It is rather I who has to apologize. I should not have used that tone with you and I should not have punished you in the first place. I simply have been worried and my worries have overruled my thinking and I do apologize for that. You have not been a bad boy."

He could feel the boy shaking his head against his chest, still not looking up at him.

"B-but … b-but th-that … and … and … th-that an-and … th-then … I … th-then … an-and …"

"Do sign your words, child, if you are too upset to for speaking right now." Severus calmly said, knowing that the child got no where right now. "You are able to communicate with either your words or your hands."

There was a hesitance before Harry turned in his arms so that he had his hands free.

"But it wasn't only the potion, and you had been right about that." Harry signed, unsurely, his fingers trembling. "And then I got ill on the way to transfiguration and then we were late and we got detention. Two detentions on one day! And then I couldn't transfigure the cup into the glass and … and … and I got startled when … when … the professor came over to me … and … and I turned and … the cup … it fell … and it broke … and …"

Closing his eyes Severus sighed, knowing well what exact memory the boy had in his mind, remembering it himself, and he tightened the grip he had around the boy, knowing that the wolf had not reassured Harry, that no punishment would follow.

"Did Professor Lupin scold you for breaking the cup?" He asked and the boy shook his head.

"No." He signed. "He repaired it."

"So there wasn't a problem at all." Severus tried to reassure the boy.

"But I broke it and I couldn't transfigure it without a handle." Harry said. "My glass always has a handle."

"Have the other children been able to transfigure their cups into correct glasses?" The Potions Master asked, wanting to make a point to the boy.

"No." Harry answered truthfully. Well, he would had been surprised if they had. "But that's not the same."

"And why isn't it the same, child?" He inquired.

"Because they … they don't … I mean …"

"You mean, they don't have a parent on staff." Severus said, suddenly understanding. "Listen, child. Just because I, as a Professor here at Hogwarts, am your father, it does not mean that you have to be perfect. I always want you to do your best, but you do not have to be perfect. Do you understand this?"

"But the others ... they will think ..."

"I do not care what the others are thinking, Harry." He growled, turning the boy in his arms so he could look into the scared eyes. "For me it is important that you are giving your best, but you do not have to be perfect. And if your best is worse than everyone else does, then it still will be alright with me, because you simply have done as good as you can. Never think otherwise, child. Did I make myself clear?" He asked again.

"Yes, sir." The boy answered and he sighed, knowing that this had not been all.

"What else happened?" He then asked.

Well, there was a pause for a moment before Harry looked up at him.

"May … may I … may I show you?" He then asked, and Severus could read the word fear and unsureness written over the boy's entire face. "I … I don't know … how … how to … I mean …"

"Calm down, child." Severus said, grabbing the thin wrists to stop their frantic movements. "Yes, you may show me. Never hesitate to ask for something like this. I am not just your teacher, I am not just your guardian, Harry. I am your father and I am here for you, child. And if something, _anything_, happened which you want to show my, then you of course do not have to fear asking for just this."

"'K." The boy finally answered, using his voice this time.

"Good." Severus placed both his hands at the boy's cheeks and looked at him seriously. "Are you ready?"

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He had seen what he had needed to see, withdrawing from the boy's mind the moment the memory had been finished, and inwardly he seethed with anger. It was the second time that Weasley had gone against Harry without a reason, despite the fact that he still had detentions for his first encounter and – yes, he could understand why Harry had been ill before transfiguration.

Back during his first transfiguration lesson he had known the teacher, had known Minerva as she had been down here in the dungeons for weeks before, giving Harry private lessons. But he had not known Lupin, had him seen just once before in the bookshop and then from afar, sitting at the head table during breakfast and lunch. He hadn't given the boy a chance to speak to the wolf before, to get him to know before his first lesson with him.

And it had been the lesson where Weasley had gone against him for the first time, taking his book back and trying to make him to speak, even if he had not been able to do that by not accepting his written words. Of course Harry would be ill with nerves before this class. He really should have invited the wolf down into his quarters before today.

He shuddered for a moment.

The wolf down here, in his quarters! Maybe he could have found another place for them to meet. The wolf's quarters probably, or Minerva's office preferably. Anywhere but his quarters at least. He knew that Lupin had not been as bad as had been Potter and Black, but Lupin nevertheless had been hanging around with them, had been one of the marauders, and honestly, Lupin hadn't done anything to stop them either. He simply had been sitting back, watching.

And yet – he had been friends with Lily too, had been one of the few friends Lily had had.

Sighing he took the boy back into his arms, pulled him close and run his hand up and down the boy's spin, knowing that this was what Harry right now needed – and knowing that the boy would need this memory for later, when he lay in his bed, alone, still unsure and still waiting for a punishment that wouldn't come.

"First, Harry, you have gotten detention with me for blowing up your potion, even if it had been injustice. You have gotten detention with Lupin for being late, even if this too had been injustice as you simply have been ill, and understandable so. You should have told him and he would have understood. Anything else, you are not to blame yourself for it, neither for being ill, nor for being startled and dropping the cup. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." Came Harry's unsure voice and he knew that the boy didn't fully believe him.

"Good." He nevertheless said. "You are not to blame yourself for the incident with Weasley either, and the broken ink bottle as well as the destroyed book will be replaced by him. I will notify his head of house and he will be dealt with. I do not even blame you for not having lunch, as I actually can understand that you simply wanted to be at home after that. Let me order a late lunch from the kitchens and then we can sit together while you eat something. And no, no further punishment aside from the detentions – that were both given unnecessarily anyway – will be given. Is that understood?"

Of course the boy nodded, but of course it was a not that came hesitantly only and he knew that the boy had not really understood. Not fully. But he also knew that there was nothing he could do about that right now aside from talking to his son over and over again about anything the child had in his mind.

He definitely would have to speak with Lupin before Harry's detention with him, and before his next lesson with the man as well.

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**

* * *

To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_A visit in Azkaban – what I promised you two chapters earlier and the Dursleys again __…_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	58. the Ministry of Magic and Azkaban

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Of course the boy nodded, but of course it was a nod that came hesitantly only and he knew that the boy had not really understood. Not fully. But he also knew that there was nothing he could do about that right now aside from talking to his son over and over again about anything the child had in his mind. _

_He definitely would have to speak with Lupin before Harry's detention with him, and before his next lesson with the man. _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter fifty-eight**

**The Ministry of Magic and Azkaban**

"The boy loves you deeply." Lucius said, causing Severus to lift his eyebrow at the aristocrat. Lucius? Speaking of love? He had to admit that this was a rare occasion and that it was – strange a bit, hearing this particular word from the man.

"I am not really sure, Lucius." He sighed, his eyes automatically going into the direction where the defense classroom was, as if he tried to see through all the walls and floors of Hogwarts to watch his son in his defense class – and he had to admit that he actually _was_ worried, especially when thinking of the child's first defense class with Quirrel. But Quirrel wasn't there anymore. "He has been through so much that I am not entirely sure if he really knows what love is. He never has been loved and he definitely is afraid of this particular emotion. He can handle pain and fear, he can handle hunger and tiredness, and he can handle being screamed at or insulted, even being beaten and locked away. But love? I am not sure if he really can handle this emotion, nor if he understands it. Not now at least."

"Watching the boy with you, my dear Severus, I am sure that he _does_ love you, even if he has not realized it yet – and maybe you have not realized it yet either." Lucius leaned back in his armchair, taking a sip from the tumbler in his hand. He had brought Draco back an hour ago, and now he was sitting in Severus' private chambers while the Potions Master and his son's godfather, his friend, waited for the return of his own son from classes and lunch.

**Flashback**

_Draco was leaning with his back against him, his head resting somewhere between his stomach and his chest and he had one hand on the boy's shoulder – like he so often had – and the other hand on the boy's forehead, running his thumb over the soft skin, savoring the feeling – something that was rather foreign to him. Yet – he really did savor it and he wondered how he never had missed this before._

_During the past few days they had talked a lot, and often Draco had ended up falling asleep on the sofa in his arms. The first time this had happened he actually had refused to bring the boy to his room, had kept him right where he had been until late in the night, until he had fallen asleep on the sofa as well, waking up with a stiff neck in the morning. But the boy looking up at him with large and startled eyes had been enough to forget his stiff neck and he had tried a smile. Not the smirk he normally gave away, but a real smile. And it had worked__ – Draco had smiled back at him. _

_"It is time, Draco." He softly said. "You have to go to __the great hall for lunch."_

_"We'll still see each other on November, 14__th__?" The boy asked, turning his head slightly so he could look up at him, his face nearly frightened and again he wondered if this fear of loss had always been there in his son._

_"We will." He said. "I will get you from Severus' quarters personally on Wednesday evening after classes so we have the entire Thursday."_

_"'K." Draco said, relaxing and he simply couldn't bring himself to reprimand the child for his sloppy speech. _

_"Would you mind accompanying me to my quarters for a moment, Lucius?" Severus, who had stood in front of them, watching them with a calm expression on his face, asked._

_"Of course, Severus." He answered._

_He turned the boy on his shoulders and then looked down into the grey eyes. _

_"I will be here on Wednesday evening, Draco." He confirmed again. "And now off you go. Defense will be over soon and I am sure that you have a lot to tell your friends when they arrive at the great hall. I expect you to behave, son."_

_"I always do." Draco grinned up at him, even though his eyes held sadness and worry – worry that they somehow would be back to where they had been before this week._

_"I do hope that __**you**__ do not think __**I **__would believe this little declaration of yours." He smirked, but he wasn't able to keep his eyes from the boy when he ran down the corridor that led to the next level and the great hall. _

_With a sigh he finally turned when the boy was out of his sight and wordlessly he followed the Potions Master who had watched them quietly, had finally turned to approach his own quarters the moment he had seen that he__, Lucius, was ready to._

_"I guess all had gone well between Draco and you?" Severus asked the moment they had arrived in his chambers and were seated in two large armchairs. _

_"Yes, it has." Lucius answered, accepting the tumbler with Ogden's Finest Severus reached towards him. "There had been an argument or two, but I guess that had to be expected. Draco had a lot to say, and he had many questions, questions I neither were ready to answer, nor had an answer to at all. We had to start over again. I have not realized how wide the abyss had grown between us, Severus, and how deep it had become."_

_"Yes, I can imagine." Severus leaned back in his armchair as well. "Draco always has feared he would lose you, and there had been a lot of questions gnawing at his mind which he never dared to ask. I am glad that he did so now, as uncomfortable as it might have been for you."_

_"That it indeed had been." Lucius sighed, running his hand over his face for a moment. "At first, I thought that I had lost him. That I had lost his trust in me, and his approval. But then – I cannot explain it, but I think that he understood."_

_"He is an intelligent child, Lucius." Severus said. "And you have not done everything wrong. He always will understand, if you take the time to speak to him, to explain things to him, calmly and in a way a child his age actually can understand. I am sure that it will work out in the end, my dear friend."_

_"I do hope so__, Severus." Lucius answered. "If only the trial with Narcissa next month will go smoothly."_

_"Do you have reason to fear it wouldn't?" The Potions Master lowered his head to one side, furrowing his brows in concern._

_"Not really." The blond aristocrat shook his head. "I just have a bad feeling. But theoretically – she won't have a chance. She has more than once counterfeited my signature, abused my son and impersonated my person. I even know of some highly illegal dealings she had done in Knockturn Alley. Not that I never had dealings there, but Narcissa has done some really stupid things while impersonating my person. I do not care, as long as she does not get her hands on Draco."_

_"If child abuse is __involved, then I am sure that Narcissa won't have a chance." Severus answered seriously. "Generally spoken, the wizarding world does not look well upon child abuse, especially not child welfare."_

**End flashback**

He knew that Severus was right. He knew that the Potions Master always was standing up against child abuse and he even knew that the man had tried to get foster parents for abused children, even for those children of some Death Eaters if possible. And nevertheless he simply had a bad feeling.

It might be just because it was his son involved, he didn't know.

"I guess that it is a new feeling to your son, something that he has never experienced before. I am sure that he one day will try to find out how far he could go and if you really cared, yes, to try and test you, hoping that you won't abandon him." He said, just to get his thoughts off his own worries and to get back to the subject. "That is all he can do, right now to try and please as best as possible and later on to test you, trying to find out when you would abandon him and hoping that you wouldn't."

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"You look worried, Mr. Snape." Professor McGonagall's voice came from behind him and he looked up at her, startled at first but then he forced himself to calm down. It had been a good day. His classes had gone well and there had been no trouble with Weasley or anyone else, not like yesterday. And even defense had gone pretty well.

He didn't like the new teacher keeping him from doing all the spells, handling him as if he were incapacitated, but it had gone well anyway. And he again had managed to go to the great hall together with Theodore and Blaise, and he was able to eat a bit. He even had been able to reach over the table to take some of the food that stood there – and all by himself. And Draco was back as well, had already been sitting at the Slytherin table when they had entered the great hall.

So – all in all, it really was a very good day.

"No, ma'am." He answered while most of the Slytherins had stopped eating, looking startled at the head of Gryffindor that stood at their – at _their_ – table. And even some of the Gryffindors looked over at them with some sort of glee in their eyes upon seeing their head of house approaching the Slytherin table, especially the part of it where he, Harry, was sitting. "It's … it's just … it's just that … that Professor Snape won't … won't be … won't be here this afternoon … and … and I … and I have … have to go … to go to the common room."

"You have not been to your common room alone before, have you, Mr. Snape?" She asked, slowly extending her hand, studying the boy in front of her if he would flinch, but he didn't, her movement probably slow enough for him to watch and so she continued the movement and laid her hand on the boy's shoulder, hoping that it would comfort him.

He gave no answer, just shook his head at her before lowering his eyes.

"It is your common room, Mr. Snape." She said, her face softening a bit. "And your house does like you. I am sure that everything will go alright."

"If … if it doesn't … if it doesn't … I … I may end … end up … end up as one of … one of my … my father's … my father's potions … potions ingredients." The boy tried to smile at her, but she could see the worry in his eyes nevertheless. "Just … just in … in case … do … do you … do you know a … a spell to … a spell to turn … to turn me back from … from a … from a beetle's eye into … into a boy, Professor?"

"Oh, dear!" She laughed, noticing that the boy had the same sense of humor his father had. "I did not have had to rescue a student from a potions cauldron in several years by now, but I do believe that I still remember how to do this, don't worry, Mr. Snape, you will be still well at the evening when your father is back. He will take you to Prince Manor then."

"Yes." The boy smiled, a real smile now. "Be-because … because of the … because of the wards. Of the wards. And … and it … it's … it's the first time … it's the first time I'll leave … leave Hog-hogwar-hogwarts … Hogwarts for … for so long. Three … three days!"

"It will be a few eventful days, I see, Mr. Snape." She said, lifting her eyebrow. "You do know that Professor Flitwick and I will come to, don't you?"

"Yes!" The boy's face lit up even more.

"But that would be three heads of houses, included the headmistress and the deputy headmaster gone from the castle, Professor." Draco Malfoy said, frowning slightly.

"Yes, regretfully it does mean this, Mr. Malfoy." Minerva sighed. "But there will be no need to worry. We have made arrangements to keep the castle and the students safe. No harm will befall you while we are gone and Professor Flitwick and I will be back tonight, we won't stay there for the entire weekend."

"Ok." The blond boy said but he could see that he wasn't entirely convinced, maybe just because his godfather and head of house were gone for the entire weekend.

"If there is any problem you wish to address while your head of house is gone, Mr. Malfoy, you always can come to my office and address me with it." She offered, pretty sure that she was right, that _that_ were the boy's worries.

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"We have to go a detour, Mr. Dursley." He said, watching the boy closely. "We simply cannot apparate to Azkaban directly, it is too heavy warded. We will floo to the ministry of magic and from there we will take the floo to the office of the prison warden. Are you still sure that you wish to do this?"

The boy had come to his office at the arranged time and he had entered his office without hesitation upon his call for him to enter. But he was pale and his eyes held something akin to fear. His hands played with the hem of his robe nervously as well.

"Yes, sir, please." The boy answered and Severus gave a curt nod. He had to admit – he was nervous himself. It wasn't a trip to Disney Land after all, but a trip to the wizarding prison, the best warded prison that held some of the worst criminals from all over the world after all. A place that was not safe for children, a place that children shouldn't see. But at the same time he knew that the child had a right to see his parents once more. So – sighing he got off his chair behind his desk and went over to the fireplace, motioned the boy over to follow him.

"We will travel via floo to the ministry and from there via floo to Azkaban." He started to explain, something he would have done with Harry too, back then when he had travelled with Harry from Herbaceous' shop back to Hogwarts if the boy would have been perceptive. But Harry had been anything from perceptive and there had been the need to get the boy back home as quickly as possible. "That means – from fireplace to fireplace. The flames won't burn or harm you in any way you might imagine. I will keep you close by my side and I trust that you won't panic and try to get away."

The boy eyed the flames warily, but he nevertheless nodded and so he took the floo powder from the mantel and threw a handfull of it into them. Quickly he pulled the boy close and led him into the now green flames, keeping a secure grip on him encase he would panic and try to get away. He then pulled him even closer and enfolded his arms around him, calling out "Ministry of magic" before they spun in the flames and were gone.

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Stepping from the floo in the attic of the ministry, he still held Dursley close so he wouldn't stumble, knowing that the first floo-travel was anything else than pleasant and caused disorientation. Only when the boy stood steadily on his feet he released him and turned him on his shoulders so he could lead him to the security stand at which – luckily – were not the young Gryffindor at duty like last time he had been here with Harry for the Dursley's trial, but Eric Munch.

The boy walked open mouthed through the atrium and Severus kept his hand on his shoulder, not only so the idiot boy wouldn't stumble because he looked wide eyed everywhere but where he was walking, but also so he wouldn't get lost in the busy crowd that rushed through the atrium what was typically on a Friday afternoon.

"Professor Snape." Munch greeted.

"Munch." Severus returned the greeting, reaching over his wand. "I do hope that this time we don't need those ridiculous badges as we only travel through."

"No need for those today, Professor." The man assured smiling. "Don't worry."

Well, Munch at least did know his business as he didn't ask for Dursley's wand, therefore knowing that the boy was a muggle and didn't have one, most likely even knowing where they headed to and why. The man just checked his wand over and then gave it back, waved at them happily while they walked to the lifts, the boy still – or again – open mouthed, not even realizing that the lift had started to move shortly after they had entered together with Shacklebolt.

Dudley couldn't help looking around over and over again, even when they already were in the lift, looking at the tiny flying notes that entered the lift together with them. It just was amazing, this ministry of magic. And the fact that he was at the ministry in the first place! He surely wouldn't be able to ever enter any muggle ministry, and now he was in the ministry of magic!

He had learned a lot during the past weeks, during the past two months, and he had learned that the wizards were people just like muggles, only a bit more eccentric sometimes – one just had to look at their ministry! This was … it was breathtaking!

"Level seven." A female voice declared when the lift came to a stop suddenly, causing his stomach to lurch. "Department of Magical Games and Sports, including British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club and Ludicrous Patents Office."

"Level Seven?" He turned his head to look up at his Professor. "Shouldn't we stop at level one first?"

"Seeing as the ministry of magic is build deep into the earth, no – the first stop is level seven and the next one will be level six, the department of magical transportation." Severus explained, glad that at least the boy had something to get his mind off the upcoming visit to the wizarding prison and his parents.

"Whoa." The boy made and he lifted his eyebrow but didn't comment on the lack of skill in using the English language this time. Dursley anyway was more busy with watching some of the notes leaving the lift while others entered, all by their own, before the grids slit close and the lift started to move again.

"Level six." The female voice said shortly after. "Department of Magical Transportation, including Apparition Test Center, Broom Regulatory Control, Floo Network Authority and Portkey Office."

Again little notes left while others entered and soon the lift moved again until they reached level five, the Department of International Cooperation including the British Seats of the International Confederation of Wizards, the international Magical Office of Law and the international Magical Trading Standards Body.

He got large eyes when they passed level four, the Department for the regulation and control of magical creatures, including the Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions, the Goblin Liaison Office and the Pest Advisory Board, wondering if the Ghosts of Hogwarts were registered here, somehow.

Level three however, the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes had him looking up at his professor again. This department held aside from the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad and the Obliviator Headquarters the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.

"Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee?" He asked unsurely, not sure if he should feel offended or – something else.

"Your parents had been aware of the wizarding world, as they had a young wizard under their – _care_." The Man growled and he could hear that he again was angry at the abuse they had done to Harry. But before he could linger at that thought, the wizard continued speaking. "But not all muggles are aware of the fact that there are witches and wizards existing all over the world. They either would hunt us down like they had done during the mid ages, or they would want us solving all their problems. So we live in secrecy. But there are some occasions when a witch or wizard has to give her- or himself away, either in self defense or accidentally. In those cases they need excuses the muggles actually could believe."

"Ah, ok." He said, understanding. Maybe that had been the reason why his mom and dad always had beaten Harry when he had done those things? Those things he now knew had been accidental magic? Maybe because they had feared that others would find out that they had a wizard in their family? He still didn't understand it, and he still wanted to know why, he still wanted to understand.

"Level two." The female voice got him off his thoughts. "Department of Magical Law Enforcement including Auror Headquarters, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office and Wizengamot Administration Services."

"We are there, Mr. Dursley." Severus said, leading the boy out of the lift and along the corridor that lay ahead of them. Shacklebolt followed them, grinning at the boy's open mouth and large eyes – and maybe at the Potions Master that had to answer a muggle child's many questions, Severus inwardly growled.

He led the boy to the chief of law enforcement's office and then stopped, knocked at the door and waited until he heard the "enter" from Bartemius Crouch who headed the department of magical aw enforcement since the downfall of the Dark Lord, he opened the door and entered, trying his best to keep his sneer out of the face. He was here for the boy's sake and not for his own.

"Snape." Crouch spat in a tone that held no friendship either and he knew that the man still held a grudge against him for escaping Azkaban ten years ago, that he still believed that he was a loyal Death Eater, even now.

"Crouch." He spat back, using the same tone and he noticed that the boy beside him looked up at him curiously. "I am here to escort Mr. Dursley for visiting his parents at Azkaban. So, if you were so friendly." He drawled, preparing himself for the idiot's answer, knowing well what would come.

"Why don't you stay there, Snape, while you already are at Azkaban?"

"Because, Crouch, I have to fulfill my duty towards this student of mine to get him back safely to Hogwarts." He drawled, using a tone as if he would explain a very simple thing to a dumb first year. Well, he had known that this reaction would come from the man. But what came next startled him and his anger at the idiot just grew.

"A muggle." Crouch spat, looking at the boy in disgust. "A muggle that shouldn't visit a school like Hogwarts in the first place, nor the ministry. It is a shame how deep the Wizarding World has fallen!"

"Indeed." Severus drawled, not able to keep his sneer out of his face for longer. "Seeing that grown ministry workers have to verbally abuse children."

"I am not a Ministry worker, Snape!" The man got off his chair, slamming his hand down onto his desk, his face red with anger. "How dare you! I am the chief of Department of Magical Law Enforcement!"

"And this child is my ward and a student at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry." Severus calmly answered. "And seeing that we have permission to visit Azkaban this afternoon, I would prefer to end this conversation as I am sure it is as unpleasant for you as much as it is for me so we both can get back to our obligations."

Crouch just nodded at him, still red faced, and he was sure that if eyes could kill, then he already would be dead, but he didn't care right now and just gripped Dursley's shoulders and turned the boy towards the fireplace, throwing floo powder into the flames and then pulling his ward and student close, into the flames that turned green and shouting out "Azkaban, prison warden's office" before vanishing from Crouch's office together with the boy.

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They landed in a small office that was furnished very spartan, a large man getting off his chair behind the desk the moment the floo flared and both, teacher and student faced a raised wand.

"Good afternoon, warden Abercrombie." Severus calmly greeted. "Professor Severus Snape and Mr. Dudley Dursley to visit Petunia and Vernon Dursley, the boy's parents."

"Your given password, Professor Snape, is?" Abercrombie asked in a deep and calm voice, his wand neither moving nor trembling.

"The ethics of magic." Severus still calmly answered while the boy beside him definitely started to grow nervous and uncomfortable.

"Ah, good afternoon, Professor, nice to see you again." The man said, finally lowering his wand and smiling.

"You do know, warden Abercrombie, that those passwords are rather unsafe." The Potions Master shook his head.

"Yes, I do know this." Abercrombie answered. "But aside from the fact that Azkaban has only one single floo from one warded office into another warded office that can be used only with special floo powder which isn't sold anywhere, the scan within the floo itself and the password for travelers – there is nothing else we could do. You however do look good, Professor, much better than you have ten years ago."

"I wonder why." Severus growled darkly, causing the man to chuckle.

"Your stoic sarcasm even worked back then, Professor. And Mr. Dursley." Abercrombie said, gazing at the boy beside him. "I am sure that Professor Snape has already asked you this question, but it is my duty to do so as well. Are you sure that you want to visit your parents? You will have to be aware that this prison is no place a child ever should see."

"Yes, sir." The boy answered after casting a nervous gaze at him, Severus, and he placed a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Very well." Abercrombie said. "Then we best get this over with. If you would follow me."

The prison warden led them out of his office and down a stony corridor, halting at a nearby office and sticking his had inside.

"Joe, John." He said into the small room. "The Dursley boy and Professor Snape are here. Please bring them to the Dursley's cell and overlook the visit."

"Course." They answered, coming out of the office and leading them further down the corridor while Abercrombie went back into his own office. "You're 'llowed ter use yer wand ter get rid of the dementors." One of them said, a large guy that looked as if a gust of wind would blow him away. "But if you're using it ter free, harm or kill 'em, you'll be in trouble."

Severus gave a court nod, trying to keep his toe nails from rolling up at the speech of the man that reminded him too much of the language Hagrid preferred – with the exception that it fit Hagrid, but not this guy.

"Professor?" Dursley beside him asked and he looked down at the boy.

"Yes?" He asked, giving the boy permission to ask a question, the brat surely had enough on his mind.

"You won't get into trouble, sir?" The boy asked, startling the Potions Master with this question. He had expected questions about the floo, about the ministry, about this place here, even maybe about Abercrombie and his raised wand. But not a question about his future well being. "I mean with this Crouch, in the ministry of magic." The boy clarified when he looked at him in near shock.

"No, Mr. Dursley." He finally answered. "I won't be in trouble with the chief of law enforcement. Crouch is a ruthless man who had caused a lot of imprisonments without giving them a trial, but he is no threat to me – nor do I fear him. Your worry however is appreciated but unnecessary."

"'K." The boy said, walking down the corridor quietly then.

They crossed other corridors, went into side ways down a flight of stairs and then down another flight of stairs until they finally reached the tract in which the Dursleys were held. It had gotten darker and colder with each step they had taken and Severus knew exactly what caused those effects.

One of the warders, he still did not know which one was Joe and which one was John, opened the iron gate of the tract and once again the Potions Master held the boy back by placing his hand on his shoulder.

"I will ask you one last time, Mr. Dursley." He said. "Are you really sure that you wish doing this? You can still decide otherwise."

The boy looked fearfully into the corridor the warder had opened, looked at him and then back into the corridor, biting his lower lip.

"You'll come too, won't you, sir?" He then asked in a small voice.

"Of course." Severus seriously asked. "Not only are you my student, but you are my ward as well. I will not let you go in there alone. I will be with you all the time."

"Alright." The boy said, taking a deep breath. "Then I'll do it. Going on with this, I mean."

"Very well." Severus said, leading the boy into the corridor, trying not to flinch when the gate fell close and locked behind them, remembering this particular tone from years ago.

They followed one of the warders while the other one followed them and he again laid his hand onto the boy's shoulder when he felt the eleven year old scooting closer to him. To their left and to their right were prisoners gazing through the iron bars, some of them sitting in a corner of their cell, silently, others standing at the bars, rattling at them, while again others were shouting things he would rather not have the boy hearing. It was no wonder he scooted closer.

They finally reached a cell at the end of the corridor, a cell that held a thin-faced woman he immediately recognized as Petunia Dursley while the cell beside that one held Vernon Dursley. Both of them didn't look so well, he had to admit, the woman pale, her arrogance gone and she was shivering in the right hand corner of her cell that was closest to her husband. Vernon Dursley definitely had lost weight and he had the same dark circles under his eyes that gave his pale face a nearly ghostly look. His boldness however was not gone, Severus at once realized. The man recognized him and he nearly threw himself at the bars in an attempt to reach him, probably to wring his neck and the Potions Master couldn't help lifting his eyebrow at the sheer stupidity of the man.

"I would cease this kind of behavior, Dursley." He sneered. "Your son is here to visit you. He has gone through a lot for being able coming here, so please do him the favor and act responsible for once in your life."

"You!" The man gasped. "How dare you! How … you …"

"Your son, Dursley." Severus growled. "You better watch your attitude or I will take him back to Hogwarts."

"Duddykins?" Petunia asked, unbelieving, hurrying over to the bars and reaching her hand through them. Severus shoved the boy away from the bars of Vernon Dursley's cell where he had faced his father and shoved him in front of his mother's cell, discretely standing back while still staying behind the boy, one hand on his shoulder. "Duddykins! You are here! How are you? Did he treat you well? What are you doing? You look well!"

"I'm fine, mom." The boy said, slowly approaching the bars and just as slowly taking his mother's hand before hurrying closer to reach his own arms through the bars, leaning his forehead forwards in an attempt to touch his mother's, as if this first touch between their hands had been needed to reassure the boy that his mother really was there, present, and that he _could_ touch her.

"How are you, Duddykins?" The woman repeated. "Tell mummy what you have done all the time."

"I'm fine, mom." The boy again said, reassuring his mother and Severus wondered how they could care for one child so much, while they hated the other one even more. "I've been living at the Slytherin common room at Hogwarts, and I've even found friends there."

"That's good. Duddykins." Petunia smiled while tears were running down the woman's face. Severus lifted his eyebrow at that. Petunia Dursley, hater of all that is magic, abuser of a wizarding child that had been in her care, this woman exclaimed that it was good that her son had found friends in the wizarding world? Maybe not all was lost, after all.

Encouraged by his mother's approval Dudley continued to speak.

"Well, and I'm attending classes too. Not all, I'm not allowed to take all the classes, not the magical ones as I'm no wizard, but Professor Snape has said we can talk about that, that I could take transfiguration and charms and defense as well. I could do all the theories behind them. And in a few years, maybe I could work at the ministry of magic and become a …"

"How dare you, Dudley!" Vernon Dursley's booming voice interrupted him and Severus prepared himself for anything that might happen. "How dare you! You come here to visit us and you wear those freaky clothes and tell us things about those freaks and their ways, how you join in their freaky ways even! And you enjoy it! How dare you taking on even those freaky classes! How dare you betraying us like this!"

"I don't betray you, dad." The boy quietly said and he could hear the sadness and the desperation in the boy's voice, as if he already had been expecting those words from his father. "I still love you. I've been thrown into this life because of you, because you abused Harry and I've made the best out of it. And yes, I'm happy, what's wrong with this?"

"We didn't abuse that little piece of shit!" Vernon Dursley bellowed, but even if he had just whispered the words, they would have been clearly heard because the moment Dudley had accused his father of abuse, the entire tract had gone deathly silent. None of the other prisoners made a sound and even those who had been sitting in a corner until now were now standing at the doors to their cells, listening intently. Casting quick glances along the corridor Severus growled, knowing that they had the entire attention of the whole tract. As it seemed, the other prisoners had not known _why_ the Dursleys had been imprisoned.

Petunia Dursley slowly had pulled her hand back, looking at her son unbelievingly.

"Is that what they made you believing, Dudley?" She asked and the Potions Master noticed that he wasn't Duddykins anymore, but Dudley now and that the woman's voice had become calm and cold.

"Professor Snape didn't make me believe anything, mom, he made me see it." Dudley said, nearly sobbing at the loss of his mother's hand, at her cold tone. "You have abused him and he nearly died because of it. He still can't take all his classes and he still …"

"What a pity the little whelp didn't die!" Vernon Dursley shouted. "But of course the freak wasn't able to do something right for once!"

"We didn't abuse him, young man!" Petunia Dursley spat at her son. "We only punished him when he was bad! We …"

"You've beaten him!" Dudley said angrily. "You've used canes and belts on him and he has scars from it! And you've starved him and locked him into the cupboard! You even have raped him! It was all in the newspaper, I've read it! And you've raised me doing the same! Do you think I feel happy about what I've done to Harry? I have nightmares because of it! And he's done nothing to warrant this! He's just a child like I!"

"Yes!" Vernon Dursley spat. "Just like you! I don't know you anymore! You've become a freak just like them! Just like _he_! You're not my son anymore and you can be glad that I'm locked up in here or I would …"

Before he even thought of drawing his wand Severus waved his hand and there was silence in the tract, a silence so deep you could hear a needle falling to the floor. He had cast the silencing charm only at Vernon Dursley and his wife, but none of the other prisoners made a sound either, nor did the two warders that stood near them, looking shocked.

"Now you listen to me, Dursley." Severus quietly said while laying his hand onto the trembling boy's shoulder. "Your son has been going through a lot of emotional stress just to see you, and don't think that this decision had been easy for him. To treat him like this now is the lowest you could have done. This boy has more brain, conscience and strength than you ever will have. He has been thrown into the wizarding world, being a muggle still, but like he said, he has made the best out of it and he has worked hard on himself. He does well in his studies at Hogwarts and he has found friends. He has done nothing that warrants your disappointment and unnecessarily harsh words. And now you will excuse us, as I will not allow you to hurt my ward any more than you already have. Good afternoon, Mrs. and Mr. Dursley, I wish you an – enjoyable time during your stay here at Azkaban."

Without another word or waiting for anything they might give away he turned the still trembling boy on his shoulders and led him back towards the gate that secured this tract, waiting for the warders to catch up with him, to open the gates and then he led him along the corridors and the flights of stairs, back to Abercrombie's office, the boy walking automatically, as if in a daze.

He knew that an added cloak wouldn't help with the boy's shivering, but nevertheless he pulled off his own cloak and wrapped it around the boy's shoulders, still leading him on along the dark and cold stone corridors.

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"Drink this, boy." Abercrombie said, reaching a cup of tea towards Dudley and Severus took the tea, ignoring the questioning look on the man's face. He wordlessly added a calming potion to the tea and then reached the cup to the boy who finally took it, sitting there in one of the chairs the man had in his office, holding the cup in his hands as if to warm them.

"Drink it." Severus said, kneeling in front of the boy and placing one hand on the child's knee to gain his attention.

The boy actually looked up at him for a moment before slowly looking at the cup in his hand, finally taking a sip of the tea.

"They hate me now." He whispered, still in a daze. "They hate me now, just like they hated Harry."

"They have been angry, Dudley." Severus quietly said. "I will not lie to you, child, never mind how much the truth might hurt. It is possible that they do, but you do not know this. They have been angry and they have been startled. All they have believed has been thrown over board today. Maybe they will be angry for a few days longer, maybe for a few weeks, and maybe even forever. But maybe they will calm down and see reason. You have done nothing wrong today, child, and I am very proud of you. You have stood up to your beliefs, even against your own parents, and you have done nothing that could have warranted their anger. Do you understand?"

The boy only slowly nodded at him, hitching a breath when he had said he was proud of him.

"Good." He continued, knowing that the boy needed something good he could cling to until the calming draught started to work. "Go on drinking." He ordered. "You indeed have been right, child. You have made the best out of your situation and _I_ did mean what I said to your father as well. You have worked hard on yourself and you did change. You are studying hard and you were ready to lay your prejudices aside and make friends with some students in your house. You have gone a very long and anything else than easy way during the past two months and I am really proud of you and what you have achieved. And I will not have you thinking any less of yourself. Is that clear?"

Again the boy nodded, a bit quicker this time and he could see that slowly the calming draught started to work.

"Good." He again said. "Do not forget this, Dudley."

"'K." The boy still unhappily mumbled.

"As for your parents, you still have the option to keep written contact to them, even if I will not allow that the next few days as I do not want to see you hurt further by them." He continued. "Give them some times to think things through, give them some time to calm down, and if you by then wish to send a letter to Azkaban, then I am sure that prison warden Abercrombie won't have any abjections to a written contact. They are your parents after all."

"Of course I'll allow them letters from you, boy." The man immediately confirmed, even if he looked doubtful, probably knowing that they wouldn't change their mind. "But I have to warn you, any letter that is send by you will be read through and censored if necessary, just to ensure you won't send them any – spells, portkeys or other ways to break free."

At a silent gaze from him, Severus, the man gave a short nod away, understanding the silent request to control their letters they might send back as well so they wouldn't be able to hurt the boy too much. He would not keep the truth from the boy, but he would not allow them to hurt him more than necessary.

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They had reached Hogwarts a few minutes ago. They had left Abercrombie's office, flooing back to Crouch's office and he had led the boy towards the door and into the corridor that led to the lifts that would bring them back to the atrium without even a greeting or a good bye towards the man. And now they were walking down the corridor that led to the Slytherin common room.

"Will you be alright in your common room, Dudley?" He quietly asked while approaching the portrait that led to his snakes.

"Yes." The boy said. He had calmed down considerably after the calming draught had worked in his system completely. "I guess I'll be fine."

"Good." Severus said. "I want you to write down your ambition within the wizarding world, what you want to achieve and why you do want it. I also want you to write down how you plan to achieve what you are planning to do."

The boy looked up at him, startled, but then he nodded before hanging his head, murmuring a "yes, sir" before giving away the password.

"And Mr. Dursley." He stopped the boy before he could enter his common room. "I expect you to be present at Professor McGonagall's classroom for transfiguration first on Monday morning."

For a moment Dursley looked up at him, blinking stupidly, but then he smiled.

"You mean it, sir?" He then asked. "I can take up all the classes?"

"That is the purpose of being present for a class in the first place, isn't it, Mr. Dursley?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow at the boy, refusing to show any signs of being pleased with the blasted brat's reaction to his permission. He would not go soft on this boy too. Two boys he was going soft at were enough, really!

And one of those two boys, namely Harry, his son, he would take from the common room in an hour, where he had been this afternoon while he, Severus, was away, and he would take him to Prince Manor, hopefully reaching their destiny in a few hours so they could have dinner at the estate. The other of those two boys, Draco, his godson, had come back from Malfoy Manor just a few hours earlier where he had been to settle things with his father.

No – he would not go soft on the third boy that was his responsibility too. He would not go soft on Dudley Dursley too.

'_Then why did you have him writing this essay?'_ The little annoying voice in his mind asked.

'_Just so he has something to occupy his mind with.'_ He answered this little annoying voice while he followed Dursley into the common room.

'_Yes, but that has not been the only reason and you know this.'_ The little annoying voice countered.

'_Well, maybe – just maybe – I had him writing this one so he can find his own value in our world.'_ He growled back.

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* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_The common room, the estate and wards__ …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	59. Prince Manor

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_No – he would not go soft on the third boy that was his responsibility too. He would not go soft on Dudley Dursley too._

'_Then why did you have him writing this essay?' The little annoying voice in his mind asked._

'_Just so he has something to occupy his mind with.' He answered this little annoying voice while he followed Dursley into the common room._

'_Yes, but that has not been the only reason and you know this.' The little annoying voice countered. _

'_Well, maybe – just maybe – I had him writing this one so he can find his own value in our world.' He growled back. _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter fifty-nine**

**Prince Manor**

He barely had stepped through the portrait hole and had entered the Slytherin common room to spend his usual hour with his snakes when a small body bumped into him and clung to him like a leech, nearly unbalancing him in the process and when he looked down to see what exactly had nearly thrown him backwards, he made out the mop of shoulder long black hair that was his son's – but nothing else as the boy had buried his face in his robes already, sobbing.

Encircling the small body of his son with his arms he gazed over the students that were present in the common room, his eyebrow lifted at Marcus Flint, the prefect.

The boy quietly shaking his head, a sad look in his eyes, made clear that nothing happened and that Harry simply had been upset while being here alone, without him, his father. It had been the first time after all, that he had been here alone, but he had hoped the boy would manage better. He knew most of the Slytherins meanwhile after all.

Well, so much for getting the child used to his dormitory. He at least now knew that he wouldn't be able to get the child back to his dormitory anytime soon. Yet, he didn't really mind. He had become quite used to having the child around in his quarters and he knew that he himself would feel lonely the moment Harry were back in his common room and at the dorms.

"Hush, child." He said, rubbing calming circles over the boy's back. "You hopefully did not think I would not come back, did you?"

"No-o." The boy sobbed, his face still in his robes and he had no other chance than lifting the child up into his arms and carrying him towards the armchairs if he didn't want to stand there all evening. "But … but you've … you've been … been so … so long …"

"I know." The Slytherin head of house admitted, sighing, while he leaned back in the armchair, placing the boy on his lap more comfortably. "But I am not only your father, Harry. I am not even just a simple teacher here at Hogwarts, I am a head of a house, and as a head of a house I do have a lot of responsibilities. And I won't always be able to take you with me while I fulfill my duties. You are safe here in your common room, and you know that."

The boy only nodded against his chest, and with another sigh he pulled him even closer, tightened his embrace for a moment before he took the boy's shoulders and held him at arm length, searching the still troubled and upset green eyes.

"What have you done, child, while I was gone?" He then asked.

Looking into the nearby fire the boy shrugged his shoulders, and following the boy's gaze with his own eyes, he frowned, knowing what _exactly_ his son had done. Namely sitting in front of the fire, waiting for him.

This had to stop!

He knew that it wouldn't be easy and that it would be accompanied with a lot of fright, emotional outbursts and tears, but it had to stop! And it had to stop soon! He simply couldn't have the boy sitting in front of the fireplace and waiting for him, most likely crying if he read the red eyes correctly, each time he left for a few hours. The child, as much as he needed him, would have to get used to him leaving from time to time. Otherwise he would be seventeen and still waiting for him in front of the fireplace, and that simply couldn't be. The boy would have to learn that he always would come back, at least as long as it was in his power to come back.

"Harry, why don't you go over to Draco and Theodore and try to get your potions essay done while I sit here?" He then asked, trying to keep his voice as reassuring as possible. "When I leave in an hour, I will take you with me, I promise."

Well, if he had thought that reassurance would be all it took to make the boy leave his lap right now, then he had been very wrong, because his words had been barely spoken when the child latched onto his robes again, nearly throwing himself at his chest, shaking his head frantically.

"Harry." He said, again taking the boy's shoulders and entangling himself from the boy's arms, holding him at arm length once more and gazing at him sternly. "I really would suggest that you start on your potions essay right now. We will leave Hogwarts in an hour and by then I would be glad if you at least had started on your homework as I am sure that you won't have much time at the manor. We will have to set up the wards, we will have to assemble your room at the manor and we only have until Sunday evening."

Well, _those_ words got the child out of his misery at once and the small face lit up immediately.

"My room?" The boy asked, his eyes as large as saucers.

"Of course your room, Mr. Snape." Severus drawled in his best Snape manner to get rid of all the misery completely. "Or did you think I would allow you in my bedroom and create a mess with all your marbles and books that will drive me mad?"

"I never make a mess." The child pouted for a second, but then he scrambled off his lap and quickly went over to the desk Draco and Theodore were working at on their own homework.

"I know, child." He quietly said, following the boy with his dark eyes. "You never do."

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Marcus had come over for a moment, shortly after, and had told him how miserable Harry had been but that none of the other children had teased him for it, that they had left him alone. Only Draco and Theodore apparently had tried to comfort Harry until Marcus had told them to leave the other boy alone after seeing that it didn't work anyway and that Harry had gone just the more upset at their attempts.

Creighton had been over too, the fifth year asking him how the trip to Azkaban had gone. Creighton Warrington had parents in Azkaban himself and he knew the place, had been through the same as had been Dudley today, being refused by his father at the mention that he would not follow the Dark Lord's and the Death Eater's ways. He had asked if it might help if he talked to Dursley and he, Severus, had given his approval, had told him that this might help the boy feeling better a bit.

Aside from that, it had been a calm and peaceful evening and he mostly had watched his son interacting with the other Slytherins. He hadn't even taken out his potions journal, _pretending_ to read like he so often did lately, but had watched Harry openly, his eyes narrowed and trying to make out anything that could help him getting him used to at least his common room.

He had noticed that the boy moved freely when being between his friends, between Draco, Theodore and Blaise, even if he – for the most time at least – refused to sit down but remained standing, leaning over the table while writing and trying to look casually. But whenever one of the other students came closer he noticed his body going rigid, tensing up and when Gordon Avery had entered the common room, a sturdy seventh year that resembled his father not only in his looks but in his beliefs and behavior as well, and when the boy had passed the table Harry and the other first years had been working at a bit too closely and slowly, closer and slower than would have been necessary, even leaning over Draco for a moment as if to have a look at their work, he had noticed Harry nearly going into panicking mode. He also had noticed the look Avery had regarded Harry with, a look of pure hatred and he knew, before he could try getting the child used to his common room permanently, he would have to have a word with that boy.

Well, at least Avery had noticed his warning gaze when he had looked over at him for a moment and nothing had happened. He had said nothing, for now, and after the usual hour he spend here with his snakes every evening he had called Harry over, ignoring the look of relief for now and he had warned his snakes to behave while he was absent.

And now he was standing in his parlor with the boy, looking him over and making sure that he was dressed warm enough. It was November, after all, and it was cold outside. They would walk to the gates and from there they would apparate to the outskirts of Prince Manor and walk up to the mansion. They would be outside for a while and he didn't want the still so fragile boy going ill.

Well, of course they could use the floo, what would be much quicker, but he remembered the last time they had done so and he didn't want a repeat of that. They simply would apparate.

"Are you ready?" He asked and at the boy's nod he opened the door to his quarters and led the child outside. He added a few extra wards for being away the entire weekend, and then he led his son through the castle, up flights of stairs and through the entrance hall. They crossed the Hogwarts grounds and again, just like the last time, he noticed that the boy hesitated for a moment when passing the greenhouses and therefore known area, the boy's hand slipping into his own.

He didn't mind though and the moment they arrived the gates he greeted Minerva and Filius who had been waiting for them with a curt nod before wrapping his arms around the small form of his son.

"Close your eyes." He instructed. "It will help with the nausea apparition causes to a young wizard." And regretfully he realized that he should have forewarned the boy last time, when he had apparated them to Diagon Alley at the beginning of this year.

A moment later they stood in the midst of a rocky area, and the breathtaking view they had in the clear moonlight, indicated that they were very – _very_ – high.

Severus immediately drew his wand with his right hand and waved it through the air in a complicated arch without taking his left hand from his son's shoulder and Filius immediately recognized the privacy and protection wards the Potions Master was setting up.

"Welcome to Ganu Mòr and Prince Manor." He then said, his voice soft and nearly lovingly, taking a deep breath before conjuring a patronus. "Follow the doe, please, I will go at the end. Harry, you will stay close to me, please, this is dangerous area."

Filius knew very well _why_ Severus was walking at the end of their small group, and his unease grew. He was not made for high mountains and he was glad when Minerva started walking ahead, a soft smile on her face. As it seemed, the headmistress _did_ love high mountains.

"It isn't so high, Filius." Severus said, as if he had read his thoughts. Ganu Mòr might be the highest point of Foinaven, but with only 914 meters it is twelve feet short of the required three thousand feet to be qualified as a Munro."

"And that is the reason as to why you want to have an eye on us by walking at the end of our little trekking tour." He couldn't help replying, his sarcasm covering his unease.

"Be careful, I start to love your sarcasm, Filius." Severus chuckled lightly and for a moment he looked over at the man, noticing how different he seemed to be from what he knew of him while being at Hogwarts. Of course the man always had been standing proud, but stiff and one could have seen his unsureness if knowing where to look for it. But here, now, the man stood tall and proud, _really_ proud, clearly enjoying the harsh and cold wind that wiped through his hair, breathing in the air as if welcoming his home. Well, generally spoken, Severus was doing just this. This was his home after all.

And this harsh area here matched the harsh face of the Potions Master perfectly, Filius couldn't help thinking.

"The Foinhaven is a large mountain complex with steep, stony and craggy slopes." The man said while extending his hand, indicating that he should follow Minerva lest he wanted to stay behind. "The narrow ridges require a confident footing and a head for taking risks. Especially the Ganu Mòr should not be challenged alone by novices in wet, snowy or icy weather – nor in the dark."

"Where exactly are we?" He asked, indeed glad that he had Minerva in front of him and Severus behind him.

"We are in the far north-west corner of the Scottish Highlands." The Potions Master behind him answered. "And we are lucky tonight, because due to its location it is extremely exposed to the North Atlantic low. The weather here in this area is normally even for Scottish means very lousy."

"Lucky?" Filius growled darkly to himself. "It's icy cold and I'm sure there isn't even any civilization within the next hundred miles!"

"The next village is Fort Huntington." The man behind him said, apparently having heard his comment. "A small village about fourteen miles away from here."

"Sir?" Young Mr. Snape asked and this time Filius turned and looked at Harry, whose voice sounded different too. The boy's face was still pale, but his cheeks had soft red spots and his eyes were glassy, large and bright. A mixture of a smile and awe was drawn on the small face.

"Yes, Harry?" Severus asked after lifting his eyebrow at first Filius then Harry and he waved his wand, stopping his patronus before Minerva could get too far ahead. He didn't really worry about _her_. And he didn't worry about Harry either, he had the child close by his side after all, his hand resting on the child's shoulder, but he worried about Filius, the smaller man radiating fear. While Minerva had _not_ known that he lived in the Scottish Highlands, _he had_ known that the woman did and that she therefore was used to such heights, but Filius wasn't.

Harry looked well, overwhelmed definitely, but well, his eyes trying to take in everything at once while at the same time trying to linger at different spots for longer as if wanting to memorize them. His breathing was deep and calm, even if he from time to time seemed to hold his breath, or hitched a breath, most likely with excitement.

Well, he had hoped that his son would like this place.

"Does … does this mean … this mean … does this … that … does … Merlin!"

Chuckling at the outburst, hearing the child using a "Merlin!" for the first time, he drew the boy closer so he leaned with his back against his chest and pointed into the distance.

"There is no need for frustration here, child. Over there in the distance you can make out Prince Manor. Calm down, child and try to form your question slowly." He calmly said. "It will take us about fifteen minutes to reach the manor that is situated at one of the lower stages just beneath the peak. We have all the time of the world and there is no need for haste. The walls the manor are situated against are high and promise safety while the deep slopes on the other sides are difficult to climb. The Prince ancestors _did_ have a sense for paranoia when building their manor right here into those Highlands. And now close your eyes and ask your question."

"Does this mean … does this mean that … that we have … that we have left England?" The boy asked, closing his eyes like he had instructed and he smiled.

"Yes." He answered. "We are still within Great Britain, but we have left England and are now in Scotland. Professor McGonagall over there is from Scotland too."

"Phew …" The boy made, releasing his breath in one go as if getting rid of something by the act and he lifted his hand to run it through his hair, as if he couldn't believe what he had learned within just seconds.

"Yes, it is a very exciting and unbelievable thought, isn't it?" He asked, giving his son's shoulder a reassuring squeeze before gently shoving him into the direction of the manor again, getting them back to walking. The doe danced happily the moment it was clear that they would continue their march towards the manor.

"It is important, Harry, that you do not run wild here." He said. "I mean it, what I said earlier. This area _does_ require a confident footing. It is a dangerous area. If you fall here, you most likely will break your neck."

"Can … can on … can one climb … can one climb those walls?" The boy asked and for a moment he scowled before taking a deep breath.

"Actually, yes." He then answered. "But if I ever catch you doing so without my presence and adequate safety equipment, then be assured that you will find yourself over my knees and receiving a sound spanking. This area here is no playpen and you will refer from taking any risks."

"You don't really mean one would be as idiotic as to climb those walls!" Filius shook his head and he lifted his eyebrow at the smaller man.

"I do thank you for this compliment, Filius." He sarcastically replied.

"You didn't …" Filius gasped. "Surely you don't mean … you can't mean … you …"

"Yes, Filius?" He questioned, smirking at the smaller man. "Surely you won't call me a liar added to calling me an idiot?"

"What …!" The charms teacher sputtered. "No! I mean … I just …"

"How eloquent, Filius." Severus right out started laughing.

"You do know, Severus, those Highlands are good for you if you are laughing like that." Minerva commented with a smirk.

"Hmm." Severus made. "Surely you didn't plan insulting me as well, dear headmistress?"

"I never would do that and risking your wrath." The woman answered. "Ending up as potions ingredients in one of your more nasty potions has never been my life's ambition."

"I am so glad to hear that, Minerva."

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The moment they had entered the manor he had waved his wand to dispel the furniture from the dust that had gathered over the past months since he last had been here and then he had Harry situated at the sofa before calling Zilly over so the house elf could take over in getting the manor inhabitable.

Filius had by now started to check the already existent wards, waving his wand, while Minerva had started to check the ground floor for the best place to start with the runes. He himself started to check the floo and the inner wards that were set up around the parlour and his study, while he at the same time watched Harry.

The boy was clearly tired and he frowned.

It had been a long day for the child, he knew, having attended two classes and then having to stay in his common room without the safety his presence meant to him. It had been an emotional tiring day. The walk towards the gates surely had been not really strenuous, but he knew that the apparition had been, and that especially the walk towards the manor had been. It had taken them not 15 minutes in the end, but 25 and the terrain had been uneven and difficult to walk on for the child, the small path covered with stones.

So he could understand why the boy was tired, but it worried him nevertheless. Harry was an eleven year old child, a boy, and he had been better lately. He shouldn't have been _that_ exhausted after walking through the highlands for 25 minutes. It only was proof of what he had feared in the beginning, what he had tried to explain to Dumbledore – it would take a long, a _very_ long time until Harry had recovered fully, if he ever would.

"Why don't you lay down for a few minutes until we have checked the manor through, Harry?" He said, gently shoving the child down on his shoulders until he lay flat on the sofa and then he took the blanket from the backrest of the sofa, spreading it over the small form. He noticed that the boy was asleep even before he was covered with the blanket fully.

He growled darkly when he turned and noticed Minerva and Filius both watching him, and he shot dark gazes at them before continuing with checking the manor through, ignoring the smile that spread over both of the other teacher's faces while they turned back towards their own work.

Blasted Minerva! And blasted Filius! Leave it to them to notice that he had a soft spot for the boy!

It had taken them half an hour, during which Harry slept peacefully, to check the already existent wards through and by that time Zilly popped in and announced that the manor was inhabitable and dinner served in the dinning hall. Severus nodded his thanks at the small house elf and then went over to the boy.

But, instead of simply waking him so Minerva and Filius wouldn't notice him going soft again, forgetting both of their soft gazes from just half an hour ago, he sat down onto the edge of the sofa and stroke his fingers over the child's forehead, brushing strands of the black hair out of his son's face, oblivious to yet another set of smiles on the other two teacher's faces while they watched him.

"Wake up, Harry." He softly said. "Dinner is ready."

The child was awake at once and opened his eyes, locked at him tiredly, and even if he could see that Harry would like to turn around and closing his eyes again, the boy nevertheless got up, reluctantly, but without making a fuss and without a word of protest and the Potions Master sighed. As much as he expected obedience, he sometimes really would like the boy uttering a word of protest, and if just under his breath, but Harry never did. The boy not even _tried_ to defy his orders with, not with a gaze nor anything else, he just did what he was told to do and it unsettled him greatly to see the child like this still.

He led them through the corridor and into the next room.

The manor itself wasn't really large, not as large as other mansions were, but it was higher a bit, holding four floors aside from the attic and the basement instead of the three floors such a house normally would hold. The dinning room itself held a long table, a sideboard and eight chairs, three on each side and one at the heads of the table each. Dinner itself was done quickly, Harry too tired to partake in the conversation and the adults talking about the wards they were to set up.

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"Let's start." Filius said enthusiastically the moment they finished dinner and Severus got to his feet, grinning over his face like a school boy and Severus couldn't help lifting his eyebrow at the charms teacher. He knew that wards were Filius' expertise and he also knew that the smaller man had changed his few of Severus during the past three months, but he nevertheless wouldn't have thought that the man would be so excited.

"Well, Harry." Minerva said. "If you come with me then, I will show you how you can work with runes. They're really very useful and they even can be fun."

Harry looked up at him, questioningly, as if asking for his permission to go with the headmistress and he nodded at the boy.

"Go with Professor McGonagall, Harry." He said. "The runes will be more interesting for you than the wards are and as _they_ are there for solely _your_ protection, it would be wise if you were present while they are set. Professor Flitwick and myself will work together on the wards meanwhile."

Nodding the boy went over to Minerva and Severus watched them leaving the dinning room and walking along the corridor that led to the entrance door, the child turning back towards him before following the headmistress outside the manor, unsurely, as if waiting for jet another nod and so he gave the boy one, silently telling him that it was alright to leave the manor with the headmistress. He trusted the blasted woman that she knew how to keep a child safe within the Highlands, she had grown up here after all. Minerva would do the runes outside first, he knew, and then the ones on the parlour, the study and the dinning room. Until then, he hoped they would have the added wards on the manor in place so he could prepare Harry's room in privacy.

Turning he went over to Filius and together they started working on the wards, Severus setting his own protection on the manor while Filius watched the Potions Master and then starting to set the matching charms.

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"Come here, Harry." Minerva said, sitting down at the steps by the front door and patting the space beside her. "Sit down and stay close. You know, I have thought long and hard, about the runes we will set here. I will set three of them and you will set one for yourself. I am however not sure which one you should set. First, I thought I would allow you to set Naudir, the rune of need, because with this rune you had something to turn to if you were in need. But then I thought maybe Wunjo, the rune of joy and wishes would be wiser for you to set, because you are a child and you should have a joyful childhood. As it is – I am still not sure which one would be best for you." She ended with a sigh, watching the boy out of the corner of her eyes.

The boy looked up at her unsurely and she waited for a moment, hoping the child would make a suggestion by himself. But he didn't. She could see that the boy had something in mind but didn't dare speaking it out aloud without being questioned and she sighed again.

"What do you think, Harry?" She then asked.

"I?" The boy however asked back, looking at her startled as if he hadn't really expected her to ask him.

"Of course you." Minerva looked at the boy sternly. "It is your rune you will set for yourself. So it only would be fitting for you to chose the rune yourself. If you set a rune you _want_ to set, it always will be much stronger than if you set one you do not want."

"I would … I would take … I would take Naudir, Ma'am." Harry then said and she smiled. Not only had the boy remembered the name of the rune, but she also had been sure the child would use the rune for joy and wishes, most children would have, even if she personally had preferred the rune for need. Yes, this child overbalanced her greatly from time to time. Yet – it only showed how deep this child's need for protection and safety still were placed within.

"Well, then be it." She smiled. "I'm glad that I do not have to think over this anymore. So Naudir it will be." She conjured a piece of parchment and a pencil and drew a vertical line onto it. Then she drew a slightly diagonal line over it, shorter than the one and reached the parchment towards Harry.

"That is the rune Naudir. Or Naudiz as some call them. It is the rune of need. I do not know the precise description the muggles use for this one, but this rune is to help you in times of need. Why don't you take this book and read about it a bit so you know what exactly you are about to set?"

"Where … where will I … where will I have to … to set it, Ma'am?" The boy asked.

"On your room of course, Harry." Minerva answered, nearly laughing.

"But … but I … I don't have a room yet." The child said.

"Oh, I'm sure you will have one very soon, young one." Minerva smiled and ruffled his hair. "Go on reading, I will set Urur in the meantime at the entrance to your home. Urur is the rune of health, strength and healing and it will provide you with just that. It will keep you and your father healthy and strong, and if you are injured, it will help healing you, never mind if it is mental healing or physical healing. And I will place it here at the entrance so that it can provide you both with its energy, so that Severus as well will be provided with its power. After all, if your father is healthy, then he will be able to care for you properly, and so it is important that I set this rune here at the entrance to your home."

The boy nodded at her and then started reading, opening the book at the page that was marked, and he only every now and then looked over at her, watching her with a small smile on his lips.

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"We are done here." Filius said, sounding tiredly. "Shall we go to your son's room then to set up the wards there?"

Giving a court nod away Severus left the main area of the manor from where they had placed the general wards and strode along the corridor, leaving the smaller teacher to hurry up behind him. He ascended the stairs and again strolled along the corridor until he had reached the far end, opening a door to their right that led into a spacious room with a bed and a nightstand on one wall, a large fireplace and a row of shelves on the other one, and a large desk with a comfortable looking chair at the far wall, underneath the now dark window. It definitely was a former guest chamber which the Potions Master wanted to set the nursery in.

"I will set up the room together with Harry later, when you have left." He said while starting to wave his wand.

"But that means that Minerva will have to come back tomorrow." Filius looked over at him shortly while matching his wand movements with Severus' again, concentrating onto the charms he was about to set to match them with the taller wizard's spells.

"I know." The Potions Master said. "The runes cannot be set before the room is not completely the child's, but I do wish to get the room ready together with Harry in privacy."

"Well, I think that makes sense." Filius nodded. "It should be a peaceful experience after all, one you took time for."

"Exactly." Severus said. "Not to mention that I am sure Minerva won't mind. She has grown up in the Highlands after all. She loves this area here."

"I wonder why." Filius growled, turning towards the windows to gaze out into the night while he worked on his charms, ignoring the soft chuckling coming from behind. But then there was silence while both men concentrated onto their wards, magical energy flowing between their wands, through the room and brushing the window, the walls and the door, even the floor and the ceiling.

Furrowing his brows Severus hesitated for a moment before he lowered himself onto one knee in front of the huge bed and then directed his wand towards the dark space beneath, his eyes serious and resolute. If Harry ever would be in any kind of danger in his room, he knew that he would flee underneath the bed, and so he warded this area with an extra spell of his own. No one aside from him and _him alone_ would be able to get Harry from underneath once he were down there, not even by removing the bed.

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"Here I will set Tiwar." Professor McGonagall said after she had led him back inside the manor, into the parlor. "Why don't you sit at the sofa, Harry, while I set the rune?"

Quickly he obeyed and sat down onto the sofa. On one hand he was glad that they were back inside. It had started getting really cold and the darkness out there had frightened him – and he was tired. He was sure that he wouldn't have been so frightened if Professor Snape had been with them, but he knew that his father was about to set other wards together with Professor Flitwick and while he would like having his father here with him, he knew that it was important what the adults did right now. He even could feel the magic that worked its ways into the masonry of the manor, that flowed through the air and that surrounded him like some kind of blanket.

And he couldn't only feel the magic from the rune Professor McGonagall had set outside, Urur, the rune of health, strength and healing, but he also could feel the magic of the wards that the two teachers had set here in the parlor, and the magic that came from upstairs and he was sure that Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick were up there, still working on some wards.

"Tiwar is the rune of justice and balance." Professor McGonagall started to explain while she carved a rune with her wand into the wooden beam over the fireplace. "I will set it here at the parlor, because this area surely will be the most important place for both of you aside from your own rooms. Here you will live and laugh and simply be, interacting with each other, and it is important that justice and balance rules here so you and your father always will feel handled fairly and at ease."

Again he nodded while he switched between reading the book and watching the Professor.

That was the other hand, on which - never mind how tired he felt – he would like to help the headmistress. It was fascinating watching her how she carved the rune into the beam with her wand, the wand tip not even touching the wood. He would like doing the same, but he knew that he should not distract her, that he most likely wouldn't be able to do such a rune himself, because it looked awfully difficult. At least if he read the Professor's face correctly.

And the Professor's face was just as concentrated as it had been while she had carved the other rune, Urur, outside, into the stony ground in front ot the entrance to the manor. She had explained to him that she carved the rune into the stony gound in front of the entrance instead of into the wooden door that led inside the house because that way they would be protected not only inside, but while being outside as well, that the entire area around the manor would be protected that way. But back then as well as right now, her wand had never touched the stony ground while she had carved the rune.

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"There are only two runes left, Severus." Minerva said the moment both teachers came back downstairs, looking as tiredly as she herself felt.

"The wards on the mansion are done as well." Severus said. "Both, the spells as well as the charms."

He cast a long glance towards Harry when he thought of the wards he had set on the child's bed. He wouldn't tell him of those wards right now, but he knew that he would have to when the boy would become older. There surely would come a time where Harry would not hide away underneath his bed anymore, and he knew that he would have to make it clear to the boy that he _should_ if danger within his own room arrived, never mind if Harry would like it or not. His child's safety was more important than any heroics he might feel were in order then, and he would not allow him any stupid stunts like the one with the troll on Halloween.

"Why don't we have a small snack before you leave?" He asked, knowing that both of them surely were as tired as he himself felt but knowing that both of them surely would be hungry as well. Dinner had been eaten quickly and had been already two hours ago, not to mention that the amount of magic they had used surely had drained them.

"Why don't you start on your son's room together with Harry and I come back tomorrow for the remaining two runes?" Minerva asked back, nearly sarcastically. "It is more important that you get Harry's room finished so he can sleep peacefully. Please do ensure that he has a healthy breakfast tomorrow morning and have a healthy lunch prepared for tomorrow as well. Harry will carve his own rune after all and that surely will be very tiring and draining on him."

"Thank you, Severus." Filius said, running his hand over his wrinkled face. "But I would prefer going back to Hogwarts right now and to just fall into my bed."

"Very well." The Potions Master answered. "I however do thank both of you for …"

"Oh, shut up, you evil from the dungeons!" Filius shook his head, not used to being thanked and surely not from the Potions Master, causing the man to shake his head, chuckling, and Harry to gasp out in shock and looking between them with wide eyes.

"As it seems …" Severus then drawled, his eyebrow lifted and addressing Harry, "our dear Charms Professor is a bit overtired and has lost his ability of proper speech. I expect you however to _not_ follow his example, Mr. Snape, if you do not wish to find yourself in serious trouble of losing your tongue."

The picture of the boy clapping his hands over his mouth and shaking his head, still wide eyed, was hilarious and Severus nearly chuckled again. Nearly, mind you! He _did_ have himself under control after all – contrary to Minerva and Filius who started laughing right out.

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Minerva and Filius had left half an hour ago and Severus and Harry had had a late snack, sitting in the parlor while the fire danced happily in the grate. They had used the floo, to travel back to Hogwarts and after they had left he had warded the fireplace. Only Minerva and Herbaceous would be able to come through now without asking for permission first, everyone else, even Filius, would have to send a patronus first, waiting for him to allow them through, to lower the wards on the floo.

He had feared that maybe Filius might feel offended, but the small teacher only had giggled at his worried face. Blasted half goblin!

However, he knew that Harry most likely was just as tired as he himself was, and if Minerva really allowed Harry to carve a rune by himself, then he would need as much sleep as possible, and it was late already, at least for Harry's standard. The boy had neither had his afternoon nap aside from half an hour when they had arrived the manor, nor had he been able to go to bed at eight like he would have done if they were at Hogwarts.

"Come now, Harry." He said, getting off the armchair and extending his hand towards his son. "I will show you to your room now."

The boy obediently got off the sofa as well and came over to him, his feet dragging along the floor and his shoulders slumped, his eyes nearly closed already. The boy was ready to fall asleep while walking.

"We still have to set your room, Harry." He quietly said while leading the boy upstairs. "But we can do this while you get ready for bed and just before you fall asleep." He now nearly smirked. He knew his son after all! And therefore he also knew that most likely the child would not tell him all the changes he would like being done in his room, that the child most likely would claim that the room was just fine the way it was. If he however was tired and half asleep, he maybe would be a bit less at guard and tell him what he really would like.

"The door to your left leads to the bathroom and the door opposite yours leads to my bedroom." He explained when they reached the far end of the corridor. "The same rules like at Hogwarts are held here – you are welcome to enter my bedroom if you need anything, if you are scared, unable to sleep or in any other need of help. Is that understood?"

The boy nodded and he reached over to open the door, gently shoving the boy inside.

Harry looked around the room with his mouth hanging open. Well, he had to admit – the manor might be considered a rather small one amongst mansions generally, but it wasn't _that_ small at all and the room Harry stepped into was bigger than the one he had at Hogwarts.

Placing his fingers beneath his son's chin he closed the boy's mouth who looked up at him with startled eyes.

"Now, what color would you like on the walls?" He asked while starting to undress the boy by opening the buttons of his shirt, the child still trying to take in the room.

"Like … like the mountains …" The boy said absent mindedly, not even protesting that he, Severus, had started undressing him, something he hadn't done since a while now, and he waved his wand. A moment later the walls behind the bed and the window looked exactly like the walls of Ganu Mòr into which the manor itself had been build while the other two walls showed the view over the area while standing outside the manor.

Another moment later he heard the gasp from the boy, realizing that what he had voiced earlier in his half awake state was now done, and again he looked up at him with his mouth open and his eyes large.

"But …" He gasped. "But … that's …"

"Do not say impossible." Severus smirked, pulling the undershirt over the boy's head. "What would you like for your ceiling?"

"The … the sky?" Harry asked, again not protesting. "Is … is it … is it poss-possible?"

"Of course it is." Severus said, again waving his wand and the ceiling became just like the sky outside, dark with stars shining, just like the ceiling in the great hall at Hogwarts would look like right now. He sat down into the chair in front of Harry's desk and opened the boy's trousers.

"What about the floor?" He then asked.

Again the boy looked over the room, but this time he seemed unsure and Severus only could guess as to why.

"You think the path we walked along this evening would be a bit too uncomfortable if you walked bare feet in here." He said, not asking but making the statement. He was sure that he was right, and a moment later the boy nodded at him. "Well, what about a simple soft carpet in the color of the path?" He then asked. "Would that be acceptable?"

At the smile that spread over the boy's face he waved his wand a third time and the carpet in the room changed its color into different shades of grey mixed with little black dots while it got softer at the same time. Again Harry smiled at the sight, neither noticing his trousers being dropped nor being placed sitting atop the desk and the Potions Master getting off his shoes and socks before slipping the trousers off the child's legs which dangled midair.

"Only your bed left now, what color would you like here?" Severus then asked, lifting the boy off the desk and standing him onto the floor, but the child seemed unable to even understand his question, his eyes down at the carpet beneath his bare feet, the small toes playing with the soft fur.

"Your bed, Harry." He said, placing his fingers under the boy's chin and lifting his head up so he had to look at him. "What color should your bedding be?" He asked while pulling a pyjama top over the boy's head.

"Green." Harry then said as soon as his head stuck out of the pyjama top. "Like … like the … like the forest!"

"Green like the forest." Severus said and waved his wand again to change the bedding's color as well as the color of the pillow that rested on the chair in front of the desk and the curtains on the window.

"Would that be acceptable?" He then asked, again lifting him onto the desk and slipping pyjama trousers over his feet, lifting his eyebrow at the child's vigorous nod.

"Well, then off to bed with you, young man." He finally said, lifting his son from the desk again and standing him at the floor, pulling up the child's pyjama trousers over his waist. "Tomorrow will be a tiring day and you need to rest now."

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* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_More runes and a look around Ganu Mòr …_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	60. Ganu Mòr

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Added author's note:**

I also have to thank Tara La'Quinn for helping me with the eight-knot part as I had troubles with describing it in a way so everyone who didn't know that particular knot would be able visualizing it. I sent her a link with the pictures how it was done and what it had to look like in the end, and she actually burned the midnight oil while trying the knot herself until she had figured it out and could help me with the desciption … thanks to you …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"Green." Harry then said as soon as his head stuck out of the pyjama top. "Like … like the … like the forest!"_

_"Green like the forest." Severus said and waved his wand again to change the bedding's color as well as the color of the pillow that rested on the chair in front of the desk and the curtains on the window._

_"Would that be acceptable?" He then asked, again lifting him onto the desk and slipping pyjama trousers over his feet, lifting his eyebrow at the child's vigorous nod._

_"Well, then off to bed with you, young man." He finally said, lifting his son from the desk again and standing him at the floor. "Tomorrow will be a tiring day and you need to rest now."_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter sixty**

**Ganu Mòr**

The next morning came and Severus Snape got up early, knowing that Harry wasn't a late sleeper. He went to the boy's room and quietly entered, sat down into the armchair in a corner, watching the child in his sleep. He knew that most likely Harry would feel disorientated upon waking up in an unknown location, he was the head of Slytherin for long enough to know that children like Harry always were, and he wanted to be there when he woke. Just in case.

Minerva would come over later, after breakfast, and then they would set up the last two runes on Harry's room, the one Minerva would do, and the one Harry would be allowed to set. It wouldn't take long, he knew. A rune was done within half an hour, at the most, and so it would be an hour of work only, but he also knew that for a child – especially for a child that was not entirely well like Harry – it was a tiring task. And yet, he was glad that Minerva allowed him to set one rune by himself.

Not only would it add to the protection the magic provided the boy with, but it also would be helping with Harry's lack of confidence and with his fears. He would – hopefully – grow with the task. As he would grow here, he couldn't help thinking. This place here, it was a place where a child, any child, could have adventures, where a child could live with nature, where a child could learn confidence.

Of course he was no fool and he knew that he would have a hard time keeping an eye on the child so he wouldn't fall and break his neck, it was a dangerous place where one could die easily when falling down one of the crags, and he knew this, but he had grown up here during the summers while his mother had been alive still, and he had survived and so would Harry, this place here was no foreign area to him after all and he knew what he had to pay attention to.

After his mother had died he had not been here for a long time, until he had been of age and then had inherited Prince Manor as his father had not allowed him to visit his grandparents after his mother's death. And he had missed this place. He often had been here during the holidays since he had inherited this manor.

Slight movement to his left got him out of his thoughts and he smirked at the bleary eyes that blinked at him sleepily.

"Good morning, Harry." He greeted. "Slept well?"

"Where …" The boy asked, squinting his eyes while he looked around, trying to make out his surroundings.

"We are still at Prince Manor." He explained, reaching towards the nightstand and picking up the boy's glasses, placing them on the small nose.

"Thank you." The boy murmured, suppressing a yawn and Severus frowned. Still, after more than two months the boy still tried to suppress his natural reactions like yawning.

"Breakfast is prepared." Severus said. "Are you hungry?"

Well, he should have known the headshake he got as an answer, but he asked nevertheless every so often. Maybe today would be the day the boy would give him a nod, either admitting that he was hungry, or actually _being_ hungry. He of course knew that Harry actually was hungry, but still he didn't know if the child really didn't _feel_ his hunger, or if he simply never dared _admitting_ that he was.

But maybe – just maybe – today would be the day he would.

"Come down for breakfast nevertheless, Harry." He said. "Zilly would be very disappointed if you missed his pancakes."

Well, that at least got a reaction out of the child that started to smile at his words and he wondered if the Dursleys ever had allowed him to actually eat pancakes at all. He knew that the boy was capable of making them, he had cooked all the Dursleys' meals after all, but he was sure that he never had been allowed to eat one of them himself.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Professor McGonagall will be here in half an hour." He said after the boy had finished his breakfast. Slowly, as slowly as he always did and more often than not having his eyes closed while chewing, as if he would have to savor the taste of it in case he wouldn't be allowed eating something like that ever again, as if he feared it would be the last time. "I suggest you take a shower and change into the clothes I have packed for you. The bag is beneath the desk in your room."

"Yes, sir." Came the answer and again Severus sighed while he watched his son's retreat.

More than two months the boy was now living with him, but still he didn't call him _'dad'_ or even by his given name – 'sir' or 'professor' was all the boy ever called him, except for if he really was desperate – or very emotional.

However, yes, he knew that the boy was able to dress himself with the clothes provided. In the beginning, he'd always had to lay out the boy's clothes, and even then he'd often had to ensure that he really put them on. But that had improved meanwhile. Harry was able to really pick out his clothes by himself and to put them on – all of them.

The same was with his meals – at least if they had them in privacy.

In the beginning he'd always had to put the food on the boy's plate and to tell him to actually eat. Meanwhile he did so by himself. He took the food he wanted and he ate without being told to. He never took a second, but he, Severus, had learned to read the boy's face well enough meanwhile to know when he would like having a second and he then simply told him to take more food.

"I'm ready." Harry's voice came from the doorway and he looked up at the eleven year old, dressed in a blue Jeans, a black hoodie with a small green and red dragon on the chest, and socks. It was the boy's favorite pullover and he smiled at the child. Yes – they had made some progress, as small as they seemed, but for Harry they had been large steps.

"Did you put an undershirt and a T-shirt on beneath your hoodie?" He asked and at the boy's nod he waved him over. "Do you wear a second pair of socks?" Again the boy nodded, smiling, while he came over to the sofa and he couldn't keep himself from smiling back – a bit. It had taken a long time until the child had smiled after all, but he did now, sometimes at least, and it always was something that made Severus' heart jumping in his chest, knowing that it had been him, cold and dark dungeons bat, that had taught this child to smile – even if just sometimes.

"What would you like doing today, aside from setting the runes?"

"Could we … could we go outside?" The child asked after sitting down at the sofa beside him, Indian stile, facing him and looking up at him with hopeful and large green eyes. "Please?"

"Of course." The Potions Master said, smirking at the sight. "That actually is what I had on my mind as well. Provided that you wear your jacket and your boots. At this time of the year it …"

"Severus?" Came Minerva's voice from the fireplace and he looked over at the headmistress' head that was sitting in the flames.

"Yes, we are ready." He smirked, answering the unspoken question.

"Alright, then I'll step through." Minerva huffed at him and he couldn't help chuckling at her annoyance.

"That would be wise if you do not want to set the runes via floo, dear Minerva."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Good morning, Harry." Professor McGonagall smiled at him after she had thrown a strange look at the Professor that nearly had chuckled. He even had been able to see the corner of his mouth twitching dangerously, like it always did when he kept himself from laughing. Well, yes. Professor McGonagall's face really had been funny when she had stepped through, Harry thought, nearly smiling himself, not realizing how much like his father he looked at that moment. "Well, dear, I guess that your father and you have set up your room last night?" She then asked, pointedly ignoring the Potions Master.

"Yes, Ma'am." He said.

"Well, would you like showing me?"

"Yes!" The boy called out enthusiastically. "It … it's great! You … you should … you should …" The heavy hand that landed on his shoulder in a calming manner made him stop and closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, and he knew what the Professor wanted to say: _'take a deep breath, close your eyes and concentrate. Speak slowly, child, you have all the time you need, there is no need to express everything you feel or want to tell me in one sentence.'_

"It's great." He then said, calmer. "And you should … you should see it."

"That would be very helpful for setting the runes." Professor McGonagall smiled, this time not only at him, Harry, but at the Professor too. As it seemed she wasn't angry at him anymore for what he'd said before she came through the floo.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

A low 'click' was the only thing that was heard in the semi-darkness before silence ruled the area again, a silence so deep as if nothing had happened, as if no one was around. But there was someone around. Dark shadows slowly started moving in one corner, followed by others before they scurried through the deserted corridor, along the semi-dark stone walls, slowly, silently, only casting calm glances at each other, until they reached their destiny and came to a halt at the dead end of the passageway.

They had been planning this for hours, throughout the entire night, quietly, using all means of getting the message to each other without the wrong people noticing the scheming, using legillimens, using sign language for those who weren't able doing any mind magic, using even a bit of wandless magic to get small notes from one person to the other, knowing that they had to be very careful, knowing that if they were caught then they would be in a lot of trouble.

They were tired now, after scheming all night long, but at the same time – now they were ready to set their plans to work and they were not ready to wait any longer – their blood was boiling with rage and fury. And so Gibbon was the first, lifting his hand and without uttering a word, without using a wand, he opened the door and slid out into the corridor, followed by a small mouse that a moment later became a tall man, Jugson. To their right a small fly became Selwyn and a spider transformed into Wilkes. Only one man missing. Just moments later Travers appeared behind them, panting, an apologetic look on his face, and just about to open his mouth to explain himself, when Gibbon lifted his hand and shook his head. Now was not the time for explanations. They had to hurry. And they had to be silent.

One by one they scurried down the corridor, watched by some others who stood or sat by the bars, watching their fellow prisoners with some glee in their eyes while those five were approaching the Dursleys' cells and just a few seconds later another low 'click' was heard.

Again there was no sound for some more seconds, no movement, the five escaped prisoners peering into the semi-darkness of the corridor, listening closely for any sound of a warder approaching. But none came and so Gibbon cast a quick silencing spell before once more waiting, watching and listening.

He knew, whenever he did wandless magic, it could be registered by the warders if he was not careful enough or if he did this too often, or if he did too powerful spells. But again – no sound indicated that any warder was coming and he smirked before he entered the cell, followed by Selwyn and Wilkes. Both men approached the whale that was laying on a cot in the corner of the cell and they pulled Vernon Dursley up, waking him in the process.

"What do you want?" The fat man asked, looking at them startled and he could see not only Travers opening the cell to the fat whale's wife with a wandless spell, Jugson waking her and keeping her from approaching the bars that kept her from her husband's cell, but he also could feel the other prisoners shifting closer to their bars, trying to get a good look. Yes – the child's visit yesterday had caused quite some fury within them.

"Teaching you a lesson, Dursley." Gibbon snarled.

"We're not fond of child abusers." Selwyn growled.

"And we're not fond of child rapists either." Wilkes added.

"And especially not when it is a wizarding child!" Gibbon hissed.

"That's none of your business." Dursley had the audacity to answer. "Leave me alone."

"Oh, we will, Dursley." Gibbon smirked. "But not before we cast a small spell on you and your wife. After that we will leave you alone – until tomorrow night."

"And the night after tomorrow." Travers smirked through the bars from the other cell, nearly jumping up and down with enthusiasm. "And every night from now on."

Gibbon and Travers both nodded at each other through the bars and both lifted their hands simultaneously casting a spell into the directions of their victims.

Again they waited with baited breath, listened, stared into the darkness that was tract 97 of Azkaban, the wizarding prison, but again nothing happened and Gibbon smirked at the dumbfound look on Vernon Dursley's face when nothing had happened.

"Oh, don't worry, Dursley." He smirked in satisfaction upon noticing the relieved look on Dursley's face. "The spell will start in … about ten minutes. We all will be back in our cells by then.

"What did you do?" Vernon Dursley asked, his voice trembling. Well, the whale definitely was here for long enough by now to know that this not only was a frightening and draining place, but that neither of them were harmless boys on a playground. They all were here for a reason.

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Gibbon smirked, "How negligent of me. Well, the spell we cast upon you and your wife – you will feel hungry, and with each day you will feel hungrier. You will find that the food you get here won't be enough. It will keep you alive for years and years, but you will feel the same pain of hunger you have condemned a child to."

And with those words three shadows left the cells of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, quickly approaching their own cells before transforming into animals while two of them were quickly locking the Dursleys' cells before hurriedly scurrying back to their own cells, entering, and locking them before any warder would be able to catch them if they had noticed the last spells.

But again – no one came. They were safe.

For now at least, but nevertheless, the all knew – it was worth the trouble, it was worth getting into the high security ward, it was worth the kiss if they were caught, and it was worth anything else – because a young wizarding child had been wronged in the most horrible way imaginable, had been tortured, had been starved, had been beaten, had been raped. They all were Death Eaters – yes. But they all knew that a wizarding child was taboo of such crimes.

Not to mention that – again, just like hundreds of years ago – a muggle had wronged a wizard, a muggle had tortured a wizard, a child no less, and over years. And the fact remained – they were reminded of the witch-hunt during the medieval times where witches and wizards had been haunted and tortured by muggles.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"This rune is called Thurisor." Professor McGonagall said, while she waved her wand over a beam that was above the door to his room. "It is Thor's rune and it stands for protection."

"Shouldn … shouldn't it … shouldn't it be placed …" The boy started and Severus could see that he was getting frustrated again, and he forced himself to keep from interfering. "Shouldn't it be placed … be placed … on the house … on the house?" The boy finished, releasing his breath with relief.

He knew that Harry would have liked to elaborate, to ask if the rune shouldn't be placed on the entire house instead of on his room only, but that he had shortened his question to cease his speaking disorder. He knew that the calmer the boy was, the better became his speech, and he also knew that it was very good if he was alone with him, without anyone being present, even if it was only Minerva or Filius, and he only could hope and work with the boy on his speech, hoping that he would overcome his speaking disorder one day.

"This manor is protected well enough by now as it is." He calmly answered. "It is this room, _your_ room, where I want this added protection. I want you safe in here, even if the wards on the manor itself should fall because of one reason or another, as unlikely as this might be in the first place."

"Oh." The boy made, looking up at him with large eyes.

"It will however be most unlikely that such ever would happen." He reassured the child. "There are layers of wards on this manor already, added over the centuries, and the ones Professor Flitwick and I have added yesterday are as strong as are the ones protecting Hogwarts herself."

"Ok." The boy sighed before looking up at him curiously. "Why … why her …why herself?" He then asked.

"You mean – why Hogwarts herself? Instead of itself?" He asked, not sure if that was what the child meant, but then the boy nodded at him. "Well, Harry, because a castle always is a woman – as is a ship."

"But … but why?" Harry asked, shaking his head to indicate that he didn't understand.

"That is a very good question, one I do not have an answer to." Severus admitted. "I only can guess that – as a woman can be very strong when it comes to protecting her children, sometimes even stronger than a man – it has been decided to name ships and castles with female names to give them more strength, even if a name cannot really give strength. But seeing that a castle can be attacked, as well as a ship, it only makes sense to give it a name from the gender that was stronger in protection."

"Oh … ok …" Harry frowned, but he looked satisfied with the answer.

"Done here." Minerva chose that moment to say. "Well, Harry, would you like doing your rune now?"

"Which one did you chose, Harry?" Severus asked curiously. He already could see Minerva opening her mouth to answer the question and he gave her one of his best glares. He had not asked her, but his son!

"I … I have chosen … I have chosen Nau- … Naudir." The boy proudly answered. "It … it's … the rune … it's the run of … of need."

Nodding at the boy he refused to smirk at the headmistress that looked dumbfound. He had known that his son would remember the name of the rune he would cast. Minerva, as it seemed, had not thought he would.

"That … that was well done, Harry." The woman said, still blinking at the boy. "Well, then take your wand. Shall we start?"

"Yes!" Harry nearly shouted.

"Alright, do you still have the picture of the rune in your mind, Harry?" Minerva asked and Harry eagerly nodded. "Well, then point your wand at the place where you want to set up the rune."

Harry looked around his room for a moment, thinking, before he slowly went towards his bed, kneeling in front of the furniture. He cast a questioning look at Severus for a moment, as if asking for permission, and at the Potions Master's nod of approval he pointed his wand at the front board, starting to draw the rune with his wand.

Minerva took a deep breath to intervene, but Severus had watched his son with his head lowered to one side and now he lifted his hand to stop Minerva from interfering. He could feel the magic Harry allowed to flow into the rune he was carving, he could feel the careful measure of how much magic he allowed to flow into the rune and he could feel where he increased the flow and where he lowered it, where he even changed the magic.

He didn't know much about runes and he wouldn't have dared to draw one himself, but he knew that what his son right now did was correct. He didn't know wherefrom he knew this, he just knew, he could feel it. And considering Minerva's startled face, her startled blinking eyes, and her soft gasp every now and then – she felt it too. Both watched the boy for some minutes longer, until he lowered his wand and then slumped his shoulders, looking up at Minerva with a questioning gaze.

For a moment the headmistress however seemed unable to speak at all and still just blinked at the child while Harry got more and more uncomfortable, frightened even, looking at him, Severus, for help before starting to slowly back away and against the wall, as if he had done something wrong.

"It is alright, Harry." Severus softly said, kneeling down beside the unsure boy and running his fingers over the rune his eleven year old son had just carved with his wand into the wood. "You have done nothing wrong, child. You have carved your own and first rune, as it seems, and considering that you have rendered your headmistress speechless, I guess that you have been successful."

"That was …" The former transfiguration professor gasped. "That … that was _incredible_, Harry… I never thought …"

"Did … did it … work … did it work?" The boy asked in a small voice, still not sure and Severus lifted his hand to run it through the child's hair.

But well, it had been a tiring task, carving the rune and adding his own magic to it, and the boy had been startled, frightened even as no answer from Minerva had come, had started to retreat even, and so no – it was no wonder that he flinched back now and Severus lowered his hand instantly, placing it on the boy's shoulder instead.

"Of course it did, Harry!" Minerva nearly shouted with excitement. "But how did you know how to carve that rune alone? How did you know when to add your magic and how much?"

"But … that … I've … I've watched you … and …" Looking up at Severus for help he just shook his head.

"I guess you have felt the magic flowing through the manor last night, haven't you?" The Potions Master asked, his eyes slightly narrowed. The boy nodded. "And I take it, you have felt the magic when Professor McGonagall had cast the runes last night and just a few minutes ago?" He then asked and again the boy nodded at him.

"Well, Minerva." He then smirked at the older witch while he gently pulled the boy closer until he had him leaning against his chest, his voice filled with pride at his son. "And here Harry feared he wouldn't be able doing magic just a few weeks ago and now he has performed ancient magic even, just a few minutes ago, and one not even I would have dared playing with. _And_ he did so without your help or instruction even."

"Yes, he did." Minerva smirked back at him. "And now he's sleeping in your lap like an angel."

Blinking Severus looked down at the child he held in his arms, his son's head laying on his forearm, his eyes in the pale face closed and his breath even and calm. Yes – Harry indeed had fallen asleep within minutes only, and he smiled. Of course the boy had fallen asleep. Any eleven year old who had just carved a rune successfully would have fallen asleep!

"I guess this sleep won't count, will it?" He softly asked while gently maneuvering the sleeping form so he could lay him into the bed where he had carved the rune onto just minutes ago.

"No, it won't." Minerva chuckled while he watched the cold and dark dungeons bat, as the students called their Potions Professor, laying the boy atop the covers and simply covering him with a second blanket so he wouldn't wake his son by pulling the covers from beneath the sleeping form. "He has to sleep one night at the manor, now that all wards and protective runes are set, to activate them and to stabilize them,"

Well, he didn't mind. He didn't mind at all! He was at home with his child that just had made him proud once more. Merlin! Did this child even know how proud he had made him over and over again? And not only with such things as using elemental magic or carving a rune successfully at his first try? But with things like starting to speak suddenly, like eating without being told? By picking his favorite clothes? By allowing him, Severus, to touch him? And to wrap his arms around him in a tight embrace?

Looking down into the pale face that just now looked so peaceful, but that would hold lines that didn't belong there the moment he would wake, he knew that – no, the child didn't know.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"'m sorry." Came Harry's voice from the doorway, just like it had earlier in the day. "I fell asleep."

"There is no need to apologize for that, child." Severus said, frowning, placing the book he had been reading in onto the coffee table. He had hoped the boy would sleep a bit longer than an hour only. "Come here, Harry." He then waved his son over to the sofa he was sitting at. "Remember what I have told you this morning? That you would be tired and sleepy after carving the rune? Yes? Then you know that it is alright to sleep after such a task."

"Alright." The boy mumbled unhappily while sitting at the edge of the sofa.

"Have you slept well, Harry?" Severus asked, taking the child under his armpits and pulling him up until he sat beside him and leaning with his back against the backrest.

"Yes, sir." The boy answered. It was clear that he still was uncomfortable with sitting on the furniture completely. He often did so by now, even sitting there Indian style like he had done earlier – when he was alright with the situation, but the smallest thing and he was back to sitting onto the edge of the furniture only. If doing so at all.

"Why don't we go to the dining room for lunch, Harry?" He then asked. "It is spinach with hash browns and chicken chips."

Well, again the smile that crept over the boy's face at the words spinach and hash browns, it was a sight that made him happy, what at the same time caused the child on the sofa beside him to get up and kneel onto the sofa, one hand resting on his shoulder and the other hand slowly lifting to the Potions Master's always so stern and harsh face that right now didn't hold all the deep lines they so often showed.

Nearly holding his breath Severus waited and watched what the boy would do, while Harry watched him as well, studying his face, before running his small fingertips over the line that ran down between his brows, the small fingers slowly following those lines around his left eye before running down to the harsh lines around his mouth – and he didn't dare moving, fearing that he would scare his son.

"You … they're not … they're not so deep when … when you smile." The boy then whispered and he simply didn't know what to answer the child. What did one answer to his child stating something so simple and yet so difficult?

Harry's fingers wandered up again until they softly touched the skin beneath his right eye, the child's green eyes piercing his dark ones with an intensity he, Severus Snape, normally pierced his students with – yet, the child's gaze was not harsh but searching.

"Not even … not even uncle Vernon looked … looked at Dudley like this." The child murmured, whispered, lost in thought and clearly to no one in particular. "But … but I don't understand. Uncle Vernon … he … he loved Dudley so … so much. Never me though. No one would … no one would ever … ever love me. Only Dudley. How … how can you … how can you look at me … at me like this?" The child then asked, his hand slowly leaving his face, leaning back and sitting with his behind onto his heels, his eyes finally re-focusing and looking at him questioningly and with a nearly begging expression in them.

"Because child," Severus then answered, after clearing his throat, and he took his son's face into both of his hands, holding the small face up and now it were his dark eyes that looked into the green ones that spoke of so much need and want. "Because I do love you. But I do love you in a different way than … your uncle has loved your cousin. That what your uncle showed towards your cousin was not love, but only the knowledge that Dudley Dursley was his son. Nothing else."

"How can one … how can one love differently?" Harry asked, not understanding. "I … I don't understand."

"And neither do I, son." The Potions Master sighed. One of the most difficult questions – and Harry had to ask _him_. Slowly he ran the thumb of his right hand over the child's forehead and hairline. "I cannot help you here, child, because I do not know the answer. I am not a man who loves easily. I have loved your mother with all my heart, I still do, and I do love you with all my heart. But I cannot explain the difference to you, because I do not know it. I am a harsh and grumpy man, not one who is capable of expressing much emotions."

"But … but you do … you do with me." The child protested, his green eyes never leaving his face.

"That is, while I do love you, child." Severus whispered, wishing Lily were here to explain such things to their son.

"Love you too." The boy finally mumbled, averting his eyes for a moment before looking up sheepishly at him.

"Come here, you little monster." The Potions Master growled, pulling the boy close and wrapping his arms around the skinny form, pressing his son against his chest before he started to gently tickling the – well, monster.

He never before had done that, tickling Harry, but right now seemed a very good moment to him to do so in order to get the strange tension out of the room, to try this, experimentally, gently first, carefully watching the child squirming before he increased the tickling until the child burst into shrill laugher.

For a moment the boy stopped abruptly, startled at the sound he had made, his eyes darting up to him, large with unsureness and he chuckled.

"Your first real laugher." He proudly said while starting anew to tickle his son that soon lay on his back on the sofa, trying to squirm away from his father's fingers while again shrill laugher filled the room, accompanied by the deep chuckling of the Potions Master.

Neither of the two noticed the small house elf that had popped into the parlor to announce that lunch was waiting, smiling at the sight before quietly leaving the room.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Now go and get your jacket, child." Severus ordered after he had tied the boy's boots. Of course he knew that Harry was eleven and that – after he never had learned doing that while living with the Dursleys as he had been able to easily slip into Dudley's old shoes that had been too large for him – he should start teaching the child how to tie his shoes by himself, but there was so much the child had to learn yet – he simply thought this was a secondary matter. And honestly, he didn't mind. Especially not right now.

Right now he would have checked the boy's shoe laces anyway as out there in the Highlands of Ganu Mòr he wanted to be sure that his shoes were sitting safely. It was important that the child had a secure footing while climbing this area.

A moment later the boy entered the parlor with his jacket on and Severus bent down to pull up the zipper before he turned the boy and gently shoved him towards the front door.

It was cold but sunny outside, the wind that messed around with both Snapes' hair was harsh and the older wizard knew that it soon would start snowing. He led the child a few yards along the path they had come the night before and then turned left, along the rock face that was to their left and a few moments later they stood in front of a steep and craggy wall that seemed to be made of hundreds of boulders over boulders.

He watched the boy close, followed the child's gaze with his own eyes and he noticed that the green eyes searched the steep and rocky uphill like his own eyes had when he had been standing right here for the first time, searching for ways to get up there and he inwardly smiled satisfied.

"You want to try it?" He softly asked, not wanting to startle the boy that was lost in whatever was going through his mind.

Harry looked at him with wide eyes before looking back at the rocks in front of him and then back at him, Severus.

"You … you mean … climbing up there, sir?" He asked startled.

"Yes." The older wizard seriously answered.

"But … you think I could?" The boy asked, still startled, not understanding that he, Severus, would think that he would be able doing such a thing.

"Why not?" Severus asked back. "You do not have to, but while I am with you, you might try."

"Yes, sir." The boy then said. "Please."

"Zilly." The Potions Master quietly called and a moment later the small house elf popped into the area where they were standing. "Please fetch my old children's climbing harnesses for Harry as well as mine, two of the longer climbing ropes, two carabiners for safekeeping, and an eight, please. And dress in warm robes as I need you here."

The elf vanished and a moment later, even before Harry had time to ask any of the questions he surely had on his mind he was back, laden with the equipments he had asked for.

"Thank you, Zilly." He said, taking the children's climbing harness and running his fingers over the material, ensuring that the time had not weakened the material or the stitching. Satisfied with his findings he turned towards his son.

"Alright, slip in there." He then said, helping the boy to slip into the harness. "Yes, like that. Always make sure that the straps are fitting and comfortable. And never use magic to get into the harness, even if it would be quicker. There is no way messing around with these things. This harness will save your live if you fall, but only if it is put on correctly. Alright, always secure the lock by reverting this band through the clasp backwards. If you cannot read the word 'danger' here at the clasp anymore because it is covered with the band, then you have done it the right way. Only this way it really will hold should you fall."

He checked the boy's climbing harness before slipping into his own and then he took the rope.

"I will link you to the rope directly." He said. "This knot is called an eight-knot and it is one that is easily learned. You are forming a figure eight, like this, and ensure that the ends are running through the loops. Then you are running the end of the rope through the strap on your harness and now you carry the rope down in the opposite directions parallel to your eight, just as the rope for the simple eight gets out of the knot you push the end back inside through the loops. You have to look closely and trace with your end of the rope all the way along your eight until the end has exited the eight and is running parallel with the other end of the rope. To tighten the knot you pull all 4 strands separately from the node. Make sure that the end of the rope is about ten inches from the node so it won't open by itself. If it looks like a highway now, all the strands running parallel, then you have made your knot correctly, see? There are other knots, but this one is set quickly and its image can almost rule out any confusion. Well – nothing can happen now, even if you fall, you will be safe."

He attached the eight Zilly had brought to his own climbing harness and then turned to the small house elf.

"Use the half mast knot, Zilly, I guess you still know what to do?"

"Of course, Master Severus." The house elf said, eagerly nodding his head, smiling all over his wrinkled old face. "I's have been belaying Master Severus when he's was a child too, after all."

Waving his wand the rope floated up and through the redirection, coming down again and the small house elf took its end while Severus turned his son on his shoulders to face the wall.

"Alright, Harry." He said to the boy that was trembling with excitement and nerves. "I will have you climbing top rope and therefore absolutely nothing can happen. Zilly will keep you safe with the rope, the knot won't open accidentally and neither will your climbing harness. You can't fall out of it either as it is fitting perfectly. So – even if you fall, you only will fall a few inches until the rope will catch you. I will climb up beside you so you never will be alone, I always will be with you. Once you are up there, Zilly will get you back down and I will let myself down the rope beside you. Nothing will happen and you will be absolutely safe. Alright?"

"Ok." The boy answered, his voice sounding as unsure as he surely felt.

"Alright, then let's start." Severus said, waving his wand and the second rope floated upwards, attached itself to a second redirection close to the first one and then he shoved the boy closer to the wall after looking at Zilly, making sure that the small house elf was ready.

Well, he luckily was, as the boy a moment later started to climb one of the lower boulders and the Potions Master smirked at the sight. Yes, maybe Harry would be happy here.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Are you tired?" Severus asked after Harry had kept his position since nearly five minutes now, Zilly having tightened the rope so the boy was more sitting in his harness than holding to the rock surface.

They were halfway up the wall by now and he had climbed beside the boy, without the safety a rope and someone belaying him. Harry had been worried at first, but he had assured him that he not only knew that wall by heart but that it surely wasn't steep enough for him to fall. He had done exactly this more than once after all.

"No." Harry answered, sounding desperate. "But … I can't find another hold."

Severus looked over at the surface his son was climbing at, knowing that for a child that was not used to such activities it wasn't easy to find all the cracks and holds, especially not if getting desperate. And he knew that Harry indeed _was_ new to such. The Dursleys hadn't even allowed him out at the playground, let alone something like the woods, mountains or lakes. The child had been lucky if he had seen the outside of his cupboard and even then only to do his chores.

"There is one close by." He then said.

"But where?" The boy asked, looking at him expectantly and he frowned, shaking his head.

"I won't tell you, Harry." He said. "Look closely, it is within your reach. You will have to find it yourself."

"The only one … the only one I can see is … is that one, above … above my left hand." The boy said. "But … but I can't reach it."

"Because you have both feet at the same height." Severus said. "Search for a hold to get one foot higher and then you can push yourself up to reach the hold above your right hand."

He watched Harry looking down, searching for a spot to place one of his feet at so he would be able to push himself up and after a few moments he actually found one and started climbing again, a huge smile crossing his face.

"I've found one" He shouted. "See? I've managed, dad!"

"Yes, I can see that, son." Severus smirked. "Well done."

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"Harry?" He asked, when the boy – again – hadn't moved since a long time, aside from his shoulders that were shaking, indicating that he was crying in his silent way like he did most of the times whenever he cried. It was half an hour since they had started climbing and now they had reached the top of the crag.

The child had let out a triumphant shout the moment he had reached the top, and he had looked around with a satisfied smile on his face, but now he was crying and Severus carefully climbed closer.

"What is it, child?" He asked.

"It's … it's so quiet here." The boy sobbed. "And … and so peaceful … and I've managed to get up here … and … and … I don't know."

"Yes, it is quite overwhelming." Severus answered solemnly, knowing by his son's words that the child was alright, just overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the peace up here, by the calmness one could feel here, overwhelmed because he had done something so special and so big, and of course overwhelmed by the fact that he had managed to climb up there all by himself.

"Are you ready to go back down?" He softly asked.

"Do we have to?" The boy asked, slowly calming down, taking a deep breath.

"Unfortunately, yes, Harry." Severus said. "The clouds over there are indicating that a storm will arise. We have enough time to get down, so do not panic, but we cannot linger for much longer."

"'k" Harry sighed and it was clear that he would have liked to stay a bit longer. Well, it wouldn't be the last time, Severus swore to himself. They even could try during the Christmas holidays, given that he took special precautions while climbing in ice and snow.

He latched the secaond carabiner into the strap on his harness, secured the closing and then he slung his rope through the bigger loop of his eight and slipped it over the loop before attaching the smaller loop to carabiner so the rope wouldn't slip out of the figure while he let himself down the rope.

"Alright." He said when he was ready. "Grip the knot in front of you. Never the rope, so you cannot accidentally grip into the wrong rope, it would be fatal if you did as you could hurt your hand. The rope would burn you. Always only grip the knot directly in front of you. Yes, just like that. And now lean back into your climbing harness, as if you would sit back into a comfortable armchair. Very good, and now place your feet against the wall, just like I do. You only have to push yourself off the wall now while Zilly will let you down."

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"Did … did you see me, Zilly?" The boy asked the moment his feet touched the ground with trembling knees. "Did you see? I … I've been all the way up there!"

"Yes, I's have seen, Master Harry." The small house elf confirmed, smiling proudly at the child. "You's have done very well."

"Really?" The boy asked and Severus had to shake his head, remembering another black haired boy that had asked this very house elf nearly the same questions, more than twenty years ago.

"Yes, really, Master Harry." Zilly said when the boy threw his skinny arms around the skinny neck of the house elf.

"Thank you, Zilly." The Potions Master heard the boy whispering into the small creature's ear while he wound the ropes up, nearly smiling again. He however barely had placed the first rope onto the ground when suddenly the same skinny arms were wrapped around his own neck and a small eleven year old boy was hanging at his neck, whispering the same "thank you" into his own ear.

"You are quite welcome, Harry." He said, wrapping his own arms around the small form of his son before the blasted brat would break his neck.

"You's are bringing Master Harry inside, Master Severus, while me's is bringing in the ropes." Zilly ordered and Severus nearly chuckled. There barely was a house elf within Great Britain who would dare giving his Master orders – aside from Zilly, sometimes, and he happily obliged, carrying the boy that still clung to him like a primate along the path that led towards the house.

"You know, Harry." He smirked. "You have just managed to climb up a thirty yard high rock face, and all by your own, I might add. But you cannot walk the hundred yards on the ground that would take you back to the house. That is quite a bit inconsistent, don't you think?"

"'m tired now." The brat quietly said while still clinging to him like a primate, his head laying on his shoulder.

"Hmm." The Potions Master made. "I can imagine that. I suggest a hot bath with a muscle relaxing potion and a massage before you sleep or you will be stiff all over your body tomorrow."

"Did … did you see that I've managed?" The boy asked, as if he needed to hear that over and over again.

"Yes, I have seen." He smiled. "I have been quite with you, if you remember. And you can be proud of yourself."

"Really?" The boy asked, finally pushing himself off his shoulders and leaning back in his arms, and he had to readjust his own arms on the boy to keep the startled looking child from falling.

"Of course." He seriously answered. "Not every child would have dared this in the first place. And not every child would have managed. You surely would not have managed this two months ago, but now you have and this alone shows how far you have come. I definitely am proud of you, son." He then added, pulling the boy close again while he entered the Manor, catching a happy smile from the child before Harry's head was back on his shoulder.

Well, that had been the reason he had not told him where exactly he had to place his hands or feet. The boy had to find his way up there by himself, and he had done quite that. It – hopefully – had helped with the child's confidence and he swore to himself that he would do that with Harry whenever they came here during the holidays.

"Added new wards, Snape?" A dark voice came from the parlor that was about to get dim and without thinking, as quick as lighting, the Potions Master had out his wand, pointing it into the semi-dark direction where the voice had come from while he at the same time tightened his hold on Harry, turning his body so he would shield his son from any oncoming spells.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_You think I would tell you what happened next after I have set such a cliffhanger? surely not__ … /me smirks evilly __… _  


**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	61. the primate and a pebble

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"__Not every child would have managed. You surely would not have managed this two months ago, but now you have and this alone shows how far you have come. I definitely am proud of you, son." He then added, pulling the boy close again while he entered the Manor, catching a happy smile from the child before Harry's head was back on his shoulder._

_Well, that had been the reason he had not told him where exactly he had to place his hands or feet. The boy had to find his way up there by himself, and he had done quite that. It – hopefully – had helped with the child's confidence and he swore to himself that he would do that with Harry whenever they came here during the holidays._

_"Added new wards, Snape?" A dark voice came from the parlour that was about to get dim and without thinking, as quick as lighting, the Potions Master had out his wand, pointing it into the semi-dark direction where the voice had come from while he at the same time tightened his hold on Harry, turning his body so he would shield his son from any oncoming spells._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter sixty-one**

**The primate and a pebble**

"Added new wards, Snape?" A dark voice came from the parlor that was about to get dim and without thinking, as quick as lighting, the Potions Master had out his wand, pointing it into the direction where the voice had come from while he at the same time lightened the room so he could see who had invaded his home.

Herbaceous smiled widely at the sight of the dark and tough Potions Master that stood in front of him, his wand lifted, pointed into his direction and his body turned to the side so it shielded his son he was carrying, that was clinging to him – like a primate as the man surely would say – or as if protecting the child from being taken away. Well – yes, as it seemed, Severus Snape was more than just a bit protective and possessive over his child.

"Herbaceous!" The boy shouted and he lifted his eyebrow, blinking curiously when the child struggled in Severus' arms to get free and to be put down – what the man quite did.

"Herb'ceous!" Harry shouted a second time while he ran towards him and then threw his little arms around his stomach. "I … I've … I've been climb-climbing! Thirty … thirty yards … thirty yards, dad … dad says! And … and all … and all alone! And … and then … and …"

"Slow down you little urchin!" Herbaceous laughed. "Calm down, take a deep breath, and say hello."

"'llo, 'Ceous, sir." The boy greeted him while pulling him towards the sofa and the man threw a quick but questioning gaze at the Potions Master that was about to get two glass tumblers and a bottle of whiskey from a locked cabinet, smirking. It was strange, seeing the normally so shy and rather frightened child smiling so openly and happily, running towards him and even _hugging_ him. Harry had never before done such a thing and surely he never before had pulled him towards the sofa, pushed him down and then kneeled beside him on the furniture, looking at him so wide eyed and … strange …

"Hello Harry." He said, ruffling the boy's hair, noticing that he barely flinched, only visible if you knew what to look for. "You don't happen to speak of – this here?" He then asked, pulling out a small piece of parchment and giving it to the child who took it with a questioning look on his face.

"But that … may I … may I keep it, 'Ceous, sir?" Harry then asked, pleadingly. "Please?"

"Of course you may." He smiled, wondering what Severus had done with that child aside from taking him to Prince Manor and climbing. Who was that child kneeling beside him? And what had he done with the small and shy Harry Snape he was used to?

"You _did_ have to take that picture, didn't you, Mr. VanHarkins?" Severus drawled at him in his typical Snape manner when he looked over the child's shoulder to look at the picture that showed the both of them climbing up the small peak and he scowled at the man.

"Of course I had to." Herbaceous answered. "I've sent a patronus, but when it wasn't answered I just thought, I'll come through and take a look, and then I found you outside risking your necks while climbing over those boulders and up that wall like primates." He smirked, knowing that this word would drive Severus up the wall.

But – well, Harry seemed not the only one acting strange today, as the younger wizard only huffed at him before reaching one of the now halfway filled tumblers towards him. He turned back to a sideboard and a moment later he came over to them with a glass of pumpkin juice which he handed towards his son.

"And so you decided to take pictures as evidence." Severus drawled, sitting into one of the armchairs. "And what is it you want now? I warn you, this Manor is better warded than ever, I have all my money safely at Gringotts and my son has just managed a thirty yards peak. You won't stand a chance against us."

"Oh, alright, alright." He said, shaking his head and trying to look downcast. "I'll surrender and I'll just go."

"No!" Harry nearly shouted. "Please!"

"Of course your friend won't go, Harry." Severus smirked. "I am sure he will have a lot of fun during dinner and then an early bedtime just like you."

"But … but I'm not … not tired!" The boy looked startled.

"You have been too tired to walk back to the Manor just moments ago." Severus lifted his eyebrow at his son.

"That was before he has seen _me_, my dear Severus." Herbaceous laughed, shaking his head.

"Drink up, Harry." The Potions Master growled. "And then get a bath ready. I'll be over in a few minutes with the relaxing potion."

"I start to see how it is that your son is clinging to you like a primate." Herbaceous laughed at him the moment Harry was out of the parlor. "You've taught him behaving like a primate while climbing up those walls here at Ganu Mòr. If you're not careful he will have bananas as his favorite food."

"I am sure that he never will prefer them to spinach." Severus drawled. "And besides – bananas are better than all the sweets children normally are devouring without any common sense and climbing up those walls will help building his muscles, his confidence, his footing and his coordination."

"And becoming a primate." The blasted man laughed.

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"Are you finished sinking your battleships yet, Harry?" He asked, after he had entered the bathroom and watched the child playing with the boats for a while. "Zilly already has finished preparing dinner."

The boy lifted his head at him, a smile spreading over his face at those words and he quickly nodded his head, picking the boats from the water and turning to place them at the towel that was spread over the board behind the tub for drying them.

"Are you hungry?" Severus asked, frowning at the smile the boy had given away at his mentioning of dinner.

"Yes!" The child absent mindedly said, kneeling in the bathtub, presenting his back and behind that were out of the water to him, while folding the towel over the boats and rubbing them dry with his small hands.

Not able to suppress a happy smile at the boy's 'yes' he came over and placed a hand atop the wet and scarred shoulder, causing the boy to turn and look up at him with a half startled half questioning look on his face.

"Nothing." He quietly said, running his hand over the child's neck, not telling him that his declaration of being hungry for the first time had made him so happy. "You are just making me happy, that is all. Come now, those boats will dry of their own volition." He then added, taking a large bath towel from the rack and wrapping it around the startled child's shoulders, lifting him out of the water.

"Why … why did … why did I … I don't … don't under-understand." The child asked with still startled large eyes watching him questioningly.

Of course the child did not understand. His relatives never had told him that he had made them happy, they only ever had told him that he was a bother, a nuisance, someone who should have died years ago instead of bothering them. Of course he did not understand that anyone could feel happy having him around, of course he did not understand that he actually made someone, _anyone_, happy.

"You just do, child." He said while rubbing the boy dry. "You just make me happy. You make me happy when you are just around and you make me happy with all those little steps you take. I cannot explain how or why, it just is that way. You make me happy."

"Like … like you can't explain … how to love differently?" The boy asked, calmer.

"Like that, yes." He answered while turning the boy on his shoulder and taking a good look at the scars, like he did from time to time, noticing with great satisfaction that they had healed completely, had become pale silver lines. They wouldn't make much trouble now and they would be the last ones the boy ever sustained, he swore to himself.

"That's ok then." Harry calmly answered then and again he smiled at the sentence that was spoken clearly and without the hint of stuttering.

"I suggest you get dressed so we can remedy you being hungry." He said, pulling an undershirt over the boy's head.

Harry happily allowed the Professor helping him getting dressed.

The man often had done so in the beginning, back then when he had been so weak and so tired always and when he had hurt at every movement, when he had been so unsure of how to act or handle situations or what clothes to put on. But that had changed, somewhat at least. The Professor had …

_His father_ had started giving him more space and as glad as he was about that – he was eleven after all and he was capable of dressing himself! – he nevertheless enjoyed being helped by the older wizard right now. He still did not really understand how he – _he_ of all people – could make his father happy. He was a good for nothing nuisance and bother after all, but the Professor's words had made him happy nonetheless and so right now he really enjoyed having him helping him, having him pulling the pyjama top over his head right now and he slipped into the sleeves the man held at the ready for him.

If the Professor was happy with him, then he was happy too, even if he couldn't understand how he could have made him happy.

And he was happy too. He was happy since he had come here to live with Professor Snape.

Professor Snape never had really beaten him, not like uncle Vernon. He just had beaten him after the thing with the troll and he had explained why he did, and it really had been nothing compared to the beatings he so often had gotten from his uncle. Professor Snape had said it hadn't been a beating at all, but a spanking, but he still didn't know what exactly the difference was. He never had asked – better not mentioning a subject that was dangerous and giving the man ideas. He didn't want to know the difference anyway.

And not to mention – Professor Snape had hugged him afterwards and he had held him and he had stroked his back and had said nice words to him, had told him that he was forgiven, things aunt Petunia always had done with Dudley, something he had wished for so, so long, that someone would hold him too and hug him and stroke his back and say nice words. But no one ever had done until he had come to living with Professor Snape. No one had ever forgiven him either aside from the Professor. And so he really didn't understand how all the other students aside from the Slytherins could hate the Professor so much when the Professor was so understanding and kind and helpful all the time.

Of course he was snarky, he knew that, but many people were. Ok, maybe not as snarky as was Professor Snape, but many people were nevertheless. And they just didn't see it. That the Professor always tried to help.

However, he was happy, and if Professor Snape, if his father was happy too, then he was just the more happy.

Wrapping his arms around the man's neck the moment he bent down for him, Harry, to step into the pyjama bottoms, he clung to the man.

"You make me … make me happy too." He shyly whispered into the man's ear before quickly releasing the Professor's neck and stepping into one of the pyjama bottom legs, steadying himself with his hands on the Professor's arms in the attempt and he could feel his own face heating at the dark eyes that watched him startled.

Severus Snape wasn't able to move for a moment while his son stepped into the pyjama bottom, steadying himself with his small hands on his, Severus' arms, the small fingers barely able to wrap themselves around his arms. He wasn't able to move for a moment, he wasn't able to say anything in response, he wasn't able to think even, and he wasn't able to blink while he stared at his son. The boy that right now had wet black hair hanging over his pale face, the boy that had a pale face that was colored with pink cheeks, the boy that had pink cheeks with shyness over what he had whispered into his ear just a moment ago.

Just when his son was dressed completely he came back to life and he couldn't keep himself from gripping those blasted thin shoulders and drawing the blasted brat close, wrapping his arms around the small form tightly.

"But don't tell … don't tell 'Ceous." The boy said, again whispered into his ear.

"That would be unbecoming for the both of us." He answered, just as quietly, before releasing the child.

"I guess it is time to go and have a look what that blasted man has been doing to our parlor while we were absent." He then said after clearing his throat and gently leading Harry out of the bathroom. "Knowing him, he will have emptied my last bottle of Ogden's Finest all by himself meanwhile and then started with the less potent drinks."

"Sir?" The boy asked, looking up at him strangely and he lowered his head to one side questioningly.

"Yes, Harry?" He asked.

"You … why … I mean … well …" The child started but then drifted off, looking down at his two pairs of socks he was wearing.

"What is it, child?" Severus asked, kneeling down in front of the child, catching his eyes.

"I mean, I already wondered why you never … you never get angry when … when you had … I don't know …" The boy started again and he definitely was uncomfortable with the subject – and frustrated over his inability and fear to voice his thoughts.

"You mean I never get angry when I had a drink?" Severus helped out and the child nodded at him startled, frightened, most likely fearing he had asked too much, had broached a subject that was dangerous. "First, Harry, I never drink so much that I lose control over myself. I do not get drunk. Second, I do not drink out of frustration. I enjoy drinking a few sips of whiskey with a friend from time to time, but I never drink out of frustration, nor so much that I lose control over myself. I know my limits and I keep myself far below them. Your uncle did drink often, I take it?"

The child only nodded, again averting his eyes.

"What your uncle did to you was inexcusable, Harry." He calmly said. "Never mind if he was drunk or not, to beat a child like he did, is inexcusable. He never should have done so and he never should have gotten drunk to such a point where he lost control over himself either. Would you feel more comfortable and safe if I keep from taking a drink from time to time at all?"

"No!" The child answered startled, nearly sobbing and this time the fear was clearly written over his pale face. "No! I never … I … I never … would … I never would …"

"I know that you never would ask this." Severus said, taking the thin shoulders into a secure grip and trying to calm the startled child. "And I know that you never would want to keep me from doing anything. I also know that you think this is not your business. But I do not ask if you would want to place your nose into what I do or do not. I asked if you would feel more comfortable and safe if I would not take a drink from time to time. I asked for what you feel better with. I asked for what you feel safer with. Not _you_ asked something of me, but _I_ asked something of you."

"No." The boy again said, calmer this time but still startled. "No, 's ok … you never get … get an'ry if … y'know."

"No, I won't." He calmly said, lifting the boy into his arms before he stood, knowing by the slurred murmur just how upset the boy was still, despite his reassurance that he had not felt offended. "I promise."

Thin arms sneaked around his neck and a small head was placed against his shoulder, the face hidden in the crook between his shoulder and neck, and he could feel the child's soft breath on his neck while he walked towards the parlor.

"Back to being a primate, I see." Herbaceous smirked when they entered the room.

Of course Herbaceous would say that! That would be a remark they would hear each time the man visited from now on, he was sure about that.

"You can have this primate clinging to you for some time, my dear friend." He said, dropping his son into Herbaceous' arms when he approached the older wizard with a smirk. "Just so you know what it is like having a primate using you as a climbing rack!"

For a moment he watched Harry close, not sure how the child would react upon being dropped into Herbaceous' arms. He knew that Harry got along very well with the older wizard, that he liked the man deeply and that he felt safe with him, but he didn't know if the child was ready for such physical contact. He might have had physical contact with Herbaceous an hour before, when he had hugged the man, but back then _Harry_ had initiated this physical contact by himself. Not so this time and Severus was ready to take the child back into his arms at any moment, not noticing the smirk that crossed Herbaceous' face when the older wizard watched his careful and frightened expression.

"Hmm." The man made. "It definitely feels good to have a primate climbing you."

"What's a pri … primate?" Harry asked and the Potions Master relaxed. As it seemed the child was alright with being dropped into Herbaceous' arms.

"A monkey." He drawled with a smirk, turning towards the door and the corridor. Dinner was prepared after all. "What is the reason as to why it will be mashed bananas for dinner, at least for you."

"'m not a monkey!" The child pouted before wrapping his arms around Herbaceous' neck when the man started to follow the Potions Master. "An' I'd rather have spinach with mashed potatoes!"

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Opening his eyes for a moment he blinked at the soft light that indicated it was early morning and with a yawn he ran his hand over his face, blinking to get them obeying his desire for opening completely while his thoughts automatically went towards his son that had been sleeping peacefully without waking in the night.

Harry had fallen asleep with the massage he had given him, like he always did lately. He'd had him doing a few of his exercises that would help his muscles becoming too stiff and he had given him the massage with the relaxing oil. He nevertheless was sure that the child would have stiff muscles after yesterday's climbing and he sighed when he rolled over in his bed.

A moment later he however frowned upon nearly rolling onto something small and soft and upon noticing Harry laying beside him his heart actually threatened to stop for a moment. He nearly had rolled himself on top of the child! He hadn't even noticed the child creeping into his bed sometimes during the night!

Laying at his side and propping himself onto his elbow, he watched the boy for some minutes. The small face was still pale but it definitely was at peace right now, the child resting peacefully. Slowly he reached over and with a thoughtful expression on his face he gently ran his fingers over his son's face, causing the boy to crumple his face and take a deep breath. Lazily green eyes opened, watching him for a moment before the boy stretched – and winced, immediately ceased his stretching.

"Sore muscles?" Severus asked, not sure if he should feel amused or worried.

The boy immediately shook his head with a startled expression on his face, a nearly frightened one and the Potions Master lifted his eyebrow at the child who knew exactly what the older wizard meant and he gave a short nod while averting his eyes.

"Yes." He mumbled.

"I won't forbid you climbing in future just because you suffer from sore muscles afterwards." He said. "But I need to know if you suffer from muscle soreness so I can help you."

"'m sorry." The boy mumbled.

"Don't be." He shook his head. "No harm is done. Sit up." He curtly ordered and the boy did. "Now off with this pyjama top." He said, pulling the boy's arms out of the sleeves from his pyjama top and then gently shoving him down on his shoulder to lay back. "Turn onto your stomach. And now let me have a look at those sore muscles of you." He added, starting to run his hands over the boy's shoulders and back.

"Your muscles indeed are as stiff as those boulders you have climbed yesterday." He said, trying to loosen them.

"Do we really … really have to go … to go back today?" Harry asked, turning his head towards him and green eyes watched him sadly.

"I fear we do." He said. "You have to attend classes tomorrow morning, and I have to teach."

"I like it here."

"Yes, I can imagine."

"Will we come … come back here?"

"Of course we will." Severus shook his head. "This will be your home, Harry. We will be back on November, 14th for the family holiday and we will be back here for the Christmas holidays. And the summer holidays."

"Professor … Professor Flitwick has told us about the … about the family holiday." The boy said, turning on his side and then sitting up, looking at him with large eyes. "Is it true … is it true that we can wish for … that we can wish for something and … and then … and then the spirits … and then the spirits … and it will be my … my … I …"

"Yes, it will be your mother's spirit, and James' spirit, who will grant your wish." He said, knowing that the child would not be able to lay still right now and so he took a towel from the side table and wiped his fingers.

"Will … will I … will I see … will …"

"No, child." He sadly said. "I fear you will not see your mother or James. I am sure you will feel their presence, but you won't be able to really see them."

"Will … will James … will he … I mean, surely he … surely he won't come … surely he … surely he won't care …"

"Stop, child!" He sternly ordered. "James Potter might not have been your paternal father, but he has taken you as his son nevertheless. He has lived with you for over a year and I am sure that he cares enough for you to come on this day together with your mother. I am sure that he misses you as much as you miss your mother and him."

Of course he was not sure. He indeed was sure that James wouldn't come. He had not been with Lily through her pregnancy, he had not been with her and the child during the birth and he had not been there for them after Harry had been born. He had been out with the mutt on every possible occasion, drinking too much to go home for the night or being too drunk to accompany Lily to the bedroom, sleeping on the sofa in the living room instead, or in an armchair – depending on if the mutt was with them or not.

He had not cared about the child while he had been alive and he was sure that he didn't care right now either.

On the other hand – the man was dead since ten years and surely such an occasion would change a man? Surely Lily had given him hell after they had died? And maybe he had changed? Maybe he had seen his mistakes and would care now?

Would he really see Harry as his family now?

He didn't know, but he didn't want to destroy the child's hope and surely he wouldn't tell the child that James never had been there for him, that he never had cared. That definitely would do no good for the child's self esteem.

**Flashback**

_The fire in his office flaring green caused him to look up momentarily – to see Potter's head sitting in the fireplace._

_"You have to come over, Snivellus." Potter said, his voice desperate._

_"What happened, Potter?" Severus asked, lifting his eyebrow and getting up from his desk quickly._

_"Dunno." Potter shrugged his shoulders. "Can't calm the blasted brat. He's calling for Lily and … for you!" The man said with a disgusted sneer on his face._

_"Get out of the fireplace." Severus said. "I'm coming over."_

_Throwing floo powder into the fireplace he stepped into the flames, calling out "Potter Estate" before vanishing in the green flames._

_"Wanna un'le Sev'us." He heard the child hiccupping between his deafening bawls and he hurried over immediately, taking the struggling child from the man's arms._

_"Hush, little one." He shushed the one year old, ignoring Potter who scowled at him. "What's wrong, Harry?"_

_"Wanna mum." The child still cried, trying to struggle out of his arms. "Wanna un'le Sev'us." _

_"I am here, child." He said, sitting down onto the sofa to first calm down the child, knowing that he wouldn't get an answer from the small boy while he was so upset and knowing that something definitely was wrong. The boy never cried in such a way, as if he was in pain, and he rubbed small circles over the child's back. "It's me, uncle Severus. I am here, child, calm down."_

_He could feel the child calming a bit, the piercing bawling changing into soft sobs and then hiccups, and the taunt muscles relaxing a bit while he leaned against him, sneaking his small arms around his neck, all the while giving him a desperate sobbed "un'le Sev'us, un'le Sev'us" and nothing else._

_"I am here, child." He repeated, not trying to get any answer out of the child right now but simply calming him. "I am here. Hush now, everything will be fine, I am here. Here now." He said when the hiccups lessened too, running a handkerchief over the tear strained face. "What happened to get you so upset?"_

_"Tummy owie." The child sobbed, clinging to him when he tried to peel the child off his neck. "Pwease 'tay."_

_"I will stay, Harry." He said, again rubbing his hand up and down the child's back. "Calm down."_

_"'womise?" The child softly asked._

_"I promise." The Potions Master confirmed. "Come now, release my neck so I can have a look at your tummy."_

_"Tummy owie." The child repeated but released his neck finally and allowed him to lay him at the sofa. Gently he lifted the child's pyjama top and ran his fingers over the small stomach._

_"Did he eat something that upset his stomach?" He asked into the room, but he got no answer – Potter already was gone and he sighed. Of course Potter was gone. How could it have been otherwise? _

_"What did you eat for dinner, child?" He then asked._

_"Dunno." The boy whimpered out. "Di'int like it. An' dada ang'y wif awwy." _

_"Let us have a look at the dinning room, shall we?" He asked, hoping that there might be some leftovers and he lifted the small child from the sofa and back into his arms. The boy gave a small whimper away at the movement but he knew that __Harry would be more upset if he left him laying on the sofa alone. Immediately the small arms sneaked around his neck again, the child clinging to him tightly and he carefully went towards the dinning room, keeping his steps as softly and as carefully as possible while he rubbed his hand over the child's lower back. _

_And yes, of course the dishes still were on the table and the Potions Master frowned. _

_Chili con carne. Potter actually had tried to feed a one year old child chili con carne! How dim witted and idiotic was that man? Of course the child would get stomach aches from that!_

_"Zilly." He softly called out and immediately his house elf popped into the Potter Estate. "I need a stomach calming potion for toddlers." He said and the small house elf disappeared only to pop back in a moment later with two of his smaller vials the moment he sat down into one of the chairs. _

_"Come now, child, release my neck for a moment." He said while he uncorked the small vial. "I have a potion here for you. It will help with your tummy. That's it, open up. No, don't spit …"_

_Well, it was too late and now he knew why Zilly had brought him two vials of the stomach calming potion. _

_"Yucky!" The child declared while shaking his head and shoving his hand away._

_"I know that it tastes bad, Harry." He sighed. "But it will help. You have to swallow the potion and in a minute you will feel better."_

_"'womise?" The child again asked and he seriously nodded. _

_"I promise." He answered and finally the child stopped trying to shove his hand away. "Alright, open up. And now drink that potion. Do not spit it out again. That's it. That's a good boy." Placing the second empty vial beside the first one onto the table he continued massaging the child's lower back when the boy went back to clinging to him._

_"Feeling better?" He asked after a while when he noticed the child in his arms relaxing, leaning against him tiredly._

_"Hmm." The small boy confirmed, nodding his head against his shoulder. _

_"Then shall we look where your father keeps himself?" He asked, immediately gaining a headshake._

_"Dada angwy." Little Harry whimpered, sobbed. "Dada say btas'ed btad an' dada awwy btankie an' btushy."_

_"Do you remember where your father placed your blanket and your plushy?"_

_"Me no mnember." The boy said, shaking his head and the Potions Master sighed. From what he understood, Potter had tried to make little Harry eating chili con carne, as stupid as this idea had been in the first place and when the child had gotten serious stomach ages and had started to cry he had called the child a 'blasted brat' and had taken his blanket and his stuffed toy, probably to make the child stop crying. _

_"We will find your blanket and your plushy." He said. "Shall we have a look?"_

_The child simply nodded at him with a yawn, his small arms still wrapped around his neck tightly and the child's head resting on his shoulder. _

**End flashback**

"Dada not love awwy." Had been one of the last sentences the child had said before he had fallen asleep in his arms while he had searched for the child's blanket and stuffed toy.

Back then, the child had known exactly that Potter had not cared about him.

He hadn't known where Lily had been, but after he had found at least the child's blanket he had sat back down onto the sofa, keeping little Harry in his arms and covering the small pyjama clad form with his blanket, not wanting to bring the child to bed. Potter had not come back from wherever he had been, he still didn't know where but guessed he had been with the mutt and Lily had come through the floo an hour later, frowning when she had seen him sitting on the sofa.

"What happened?" She had asked and he had told her that Potter had called her over after he had tried to feed Harry with chili con carne and the child had gotten serious stomach aches from the food. Lily had been livid!

She had been with Dumbledore who had called her over and she had told Potter to simply cast a warming charm at the bowl with baby food she had prepared before she had left.

So no – Potter never had really cared and he didn't know if he would care now. But he was not ready to destroy Harry's hopes about this. Back then the child might have known that Potter had not cared about him, might have felt it, he didn't know, but most likely the child had forgotten about that over the years with the Dursleys, seeing that their treatment of the child had been so much worse than Potter's. Compared to their treatment Potter had been the most loving father – even if a stupid father.

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Leading Harry along the path that led to the apparition point Severus watched the boy looking back over his shoulder longingly before he slumped his shoulders in defeat and he placed his hand on his son's shoulder reassuringly.

"We will be back." He promised, looking down into the sad green eyes. "We have to come back for the family holiday in four days. We will come back Wednesday evening next week and we will stay until Friday morning so we have the entire Thursday. It is normal to come home a day earlier for the family holiday and to leave the day after."

"'kay." Harry said, yet – he could hear in his voice that it was not really ok. That right now four days seemed to be an eternity for the child.

Of course he had discussed with Herbaceous the day before.

He had to admit that he never had seen the child so care free than he was here at Prince Manor, at Ganu Mòr, and of course both wizards had considered simply taking Harry from Hogwarts for a year to give him time to heal, to rest, to have time for simply being a child. He'd never had that after all. It would be what the child needed.

But at the same time he also knew that he would destroy something in the child's self esteem if he pulled him off school now, for Harry it would be as if he wouldn't be able to manage and Harry would blame himself for whatever evil things he would be able to think of. The boy would feel too stupid for school, too week for classes, to bad for Hogwarts and only Merlin knew what else too, and that was something he wanted to prevent at all costs. The child thought already too low of himself as it was without having to feel too stupid and week for managing school.

"You appear to be a boy that is … up to something." Severus leaned closer to his son when the boy stopped, looking at the peak they had climbed the day before with a nearly calculating look on his face and his voice thrummed with warning, even if it actually was just to get the child out of whatever sad thoughts he was thinking.

For a moment the child looked at him with large and startled eyes, but upon watching him for a few seconds he relaxed and then he shook his head.

"N-no, sir." He said. "But there … there was … there was an animal. And it … it climbed … it climbed over the … the bou-boulders. Near … near the … near the peak."

"That would be a clamberjackal." He said with a frown. "They often come here. You only find them in the regions of the Highlands that are formed like boulders as they find caves between them."

"Aren't … aren't they … aren't they dangerous?" The boy asked, looking up at him.

"No." He said. "They would fear you more than you fear them. They are rather small compared to regular jackals and for them we are giants, and especially those who live in abandoned places like this peak here at Ganu Mòr, they are not used to people."

"'kay." The child sighed, turning back to the path they were about to go but the Potions Master kept a hand on his shoulder. For a long moment he watched the child before he bent down and took one of the pebbles. Taking the child's hand he placed the pebble onto the small palm and closed the boy's fingers over the stone before he without another word led the boy towards the apparition point beyond the wards. He pulled his son close and folded his arms over the small shoulders before he apparated them away, back to Hogsmead from where they would walk back to Hogwarts.

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* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_Back at Hogwarts__ … and Dudley finally visiting Harry …  
_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	62. Harry and Dudley

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well ... I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings ... J. K. Rowling owns them all ... I just borrow them a bit ...

Uhm ... and well ... sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts ... I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this ... I at least promise to try ...

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before ... thank you ... and yes ... I would be glad to receive more responses ...

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help ... there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be ... ^.~ ... believe me - I am ...

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"'kay." The child sighed, turning back to the path they were about to go but the Potions Master kept a hand on his shoulder. For a long moment he watched the child before he bent down and took one of the pebbles. Taking the child's hand he placed the pebble onto the small palm and closed the boy's fingers over the stone before he__, without another word, led the boy towards the apparition point beyond the wards. He pulled his son close and folded his arms over the small shoulders before he apparated them away, back to Hogsmead from where they would walk back to Hogwarts._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter sixty-two**

**Harry and Dudley**

Slowly Harry made his way along the isle, warily watching the other students in the library. Nearly all the tables were occupied and for a moment he thought that maybe he shouldn't have come between lunch and the afternoon classes. He should have come when all the other students were in their classes, the library would have been nearly empty then.

But he needed information for that essay Professor Flitwick had given them and as the essay was due to tomorrow morning – he had to write it this afternoon. And so he needed the information now.

Draco and Theodore beside him scowled darkly at the other children who were gawking at him, but he didn't mind. At least they helped in keeping the others away and that was all he wanted.

Walking over to the charms section he searched through the rows of books for a few moments, but then he smiled. There it was – _'Levitating, summoning and banishing spells through the ages'_.

"You do know, Harry, that we don't need to go into the history of the levitating spell?" Draco asked, shaking his head.

"Yes, but … but dad ment-mentioned … mentioned it." He whispered back. He hated it, talking, stuttering, in front of the others. He didn't mind Draco meanwhile, and Theodore too was alright he guessed, but all the other students in the library made him nervous.

"Uncle Severus always mentions books." Draco said, nearly laughing. "He's a bookworm and without his nose stuck in a book he isn't happy."

"Wonder how he can read with his large nose stuck in a book, surely he needs glasses then?" A teasing voice came from the isle and all three turned, Harry with an angry scowl on his face now as well as Draco and Theodore. Why did they always have to say something nasty about his father? He would like to say something, to defend his father, and he even knew what he would like to say, but he didn't dare, knowing that his words would come out as a stutter only and he was sure that Weasley only would laugh at him then.

"At least he can read, Weasel, contraire to you." Draco growled instead. "You can't even read your letters, your mother has to scream them through the entire great hall."

"Leave my mother out of this, Malfoy." The red haired boy shouted, angrily, his hands in fists.

"Then … then … you do … do the … do the same … with … with my …"

"Oh, come on, Snape, you can't even talk!" Weasley smirked. "The front man of the Slytherin trio, a professor's son, the _deputy headmaster's_ son even, and unable to speak! How pathe- …"

"Finish this sentence, Mr. Weasley, and you will find yourself in more trouble than you might be able handling." Professor McGonagall's voice startled all of them. They hadn't noticed her coming along the isle in the library and now they all turned towards her, Draco and Theodore with a challenging look on their faces, Harry with a scared one and Ronald Weasley and Dean Thomas with a startled.

"If my memory serves me right, Mr. Weasley, then you have been ordered to leave Mr. Snape alone." She continued sternly. "And yet I find you here, insulting your fellow student. You disappoint me, I have thought better of you, Mr. Weasley. That will be ten points from Gryffindor and detention with Professor Snape – again. And now you better leave."

Quickly the two Gryffindors left, not only the charms section but the library at all, and the headmistress turned towards the remaining three boys, watching them for a moment, watching Malfoy's and Nott's lowering gazes, and Harry's still somewhat frightened face. Well, at least Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott had learned something today - namely that as the headmistress she would not play favorites, even if she had been the head of Gryffindor. Back then she had not been pleased with Ronald Weasley's behavior and she still was not pleased with it yet.

As for Harry, she knew that Harry had troubles learning such things and she could see in his still frightened face that he expected some kind of punishment for fighting in the library, even if they definitely had not started the quarrel and Harry only had tried to defend his father.

"You are not in trouble, Mr. Snape." She therefore said, remembering the last fiasco when the boy had expected a punishment from her and she definitely did not want a repeater of that. "None of you are." And with that she turned and went on towards the geography section she first had headed for.

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Dudley Dursley was sitting in his common room, fidgeting with the parchment he had laying in front of him.

He didn't have trouble with history of magic so far, but today he had and he knew that he – most likely – wouldn't be able to finish it right now. He just was too nervous.

Tonight after dinner he would go and visit Harry.

Of course he wasn't afraid of Harry. Even if his smaller cousin would be able hurting him physically, he wouldn't do so anyway and he knew that. That was not Harry's way. But he was afraid because he feared that Harry wouldn't forgive him. He wasn't sure why this was so important to him, such things never had been important to him in the past, but it was. He desperately wanted the smaller boy, his cousin, to be his friend, to forgive him.

Professor Snape had said he didn't know if Harry would, if he even could, and he understood why. He understood that the damage not only his parents had inflicted over Harry, but he himself as well, was just too much. He could see how Harry fought to struggle his way through his morning classes, not even able to partake in his afternoon classes, and he could see how Harry struggled through the meals in the great hall, and how tired he always looked, how pale.

It never had bothered him, until Professor Snape had had all those conversations with him during the past weeks – and until he had seen the other Slytherins interacting together. None of them went against their own, they protected each other and they looked out for each other, and he wanted to be part of this. But he wanted to be part of this together with Harry.

Sighing he looked over at the small box.

He had gathered a few things, a few chocolate frogs and a small bag of Bertie Bott's Beans. And Professor Snape had taken him to Privet Drive where he had collected a package of crayons, the ones Harry often had watched with longing eyes. Only few of them were used as he never had really liked drawing and so the box nearly was intact still. He also had taken the box with the pencils and the carbon pencils.

He knew that Harry could draw, he had seen the picture he once had drawn in his cupboard, and he knew that Harry secretly always had watched him when he had drawn in the kitchen. Back then he only had done so to annoy Harry, but right now he felt bad for it and he wanted the other boy having those things.

Of course he could have bought those things so Harry would not have his old things, Professor Snape had kept true to his word and had given him a weekly allowance, but somehow he knew that it wouldn't be the same. Harry always had eyed this particular box with the crayons and – well, he just hoped that he had made the right decision.

"It'll be alright, Dursley." Marcus Flint said, startling him. He hadn't heard the prefect coming over. "Just apologize and be friendly to Harry. And accept it if he doesn't accept your apology in the beginning."

He only could nod, before he averted his eyes. He knew that the prefect was right, and he also was glad that the prefect seemed to look out for him, Dudley Dursley, a muggle, as well. Not only was he a muggle in the house that thought high of the wizarding pure-blood status, but he also was the one that had hurt Harry. And he knew that Harry was not only accepted in his house, that he not only was the son of their head of house, but that he also was liked by the Slytherins, at least most of them.

He had seen the gazes a few of the older students had regarded Harry with, like Gordon Avery for example, but most of them liked Harry. And nevertheless the prefect seemed to look out for him, Dudley, as well.

"Remember, Dursley, Harry is the son of our head of house, yes, but you are the ward of our head of house as well." The older boy said, as if he had read his mind and for a moment he wondered if the prefect maybe had done just this. He knew so little about the wizarding world, it could be possible after all, especially as the prefect was an upper grade, they surely had advanced magic or something like that.

"And no, I have not read your mind." Marcus smirked at the scared and curious look Dursley watched him with. "But your thoughts are written over your face. You should have been a Gryffindor, Dursley."

Scowling Dudley went back to his essay – even if he was just a muggle, and even if he was new to all of this, he knew that _this_ had been an insult, a Slytherin being accused of belonging to the house of Gryffindor.

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Severus was sitting in his armchair, thinking.

It was one of the rare occasions that he really didn't know what to do. On one hand, Albus had been his friend and mentor for many, many years and as barmy as the old man sometimes could be, he always had helped him in the end. But on the other hand, he wasn't alone anymore, it wasn't just he, Severus, anymore. There was Harry now, his son, and Albus had risked his son's life, Albus had failed the boy, had placed him with an abusive family that nearly had killed the child. And after that he hadn't even seen his mistake, had blamed him, Severus, for exaggerating.

He hadn't exaggerated.

Harry was at Hogwarts since more than two months now and still he wasn't well, still he wasn't able to go through an entire day of classes, still he was tiring too easily and too quickly. He still wasn't able to eat normally, nor was he able to sleep nornally. Still he had not back his strengths and even if his injuries might be healed, he nevertheless still was not healthy physically. And neither was he mentally.

And so – no, he had not exaggerated.

And now Albus had asked for his permission to visit them.

He simply didn't know what to do. On one hand – yes, he would like seeing the old man again, while on the other hand – no, he didn't want seeing him, fearing what he could say if he had the old meddling coot standing in front of him.

Maybe if he hadn't kept Harry from him, if he hadn't kept his parentage secret from him, maybe. But Albus had. Albus had betrayed him as well as he had betrayed Lily and Harry. The only one who had been the winner in this had been James Potter – and Albus himself.

Running his hand over his face he sighed before he threw the letter onto his desk and leaned back in his chair. He would have to think over this and he would have a word with Minerva over this, maybe even with Herbaceous. They would understand his feelings and they would understand his reasoning.

But not today.

Today Dursley would come to visit Harry and he had to admit – he was nervous, something he rarely was.

How did other parents manage this? Always worrying over their children from day one without going mad? He was a father since not even two months now and he didn't know how to manage. Ok, actually he was a father since more than two months, but he hadn't known and so he hadn't worried of course. But he knew and he had Harry with him since two months and the constant worrying sometimes threatened to drive him mad, honestly. How did Molly and Arthur manage this? Or other parents?

Well, he simply would have to be very careful, would have to have an eye on both boys.

He knew, anything could happen.

Maybe even Harry physically going against Dursley. He doubted it. He knew that boy meanwhile and he really didn't think that he would even _want_ harming his cousin, not even after what the Dursleys had done to him. Harry still thought it was his own fault after all, still thought that he had deserved the 'punishments', that he had been a bad boy. And Harry still was a very, very frightened and scared child after all.

And yet – it _could_ be possible and he had to think of the possibility. Because if it happened, then Dursley surely would try defending himself, old instincts kicking in and he could harm Harry badly then.

On the other hand – it also could be that Harry would not even accept the apology, but the offer of friendship as well, even if he didn't think the child would do _that_ so soon. He hoped that Harry would think it through before making a decision instead of heading head first into a friendship he maybe didn't want just because he still was afraid of his cousin or just because he thought he had to.

Of course he had talked to Harry about this, and of course he had explained to him that he was in the lead, that it would be _his_ decision and his _alone_. Dursley had no say in this and neither did he, Severus. He even had the right to send Dursley away if he felt uncomfortable with the situation. Whatever would happen tonight, it was up to Harry. It was Harry's choice alone and he had the right to do what he felt most comfortable with, he _should_ do what he felt most comfortable with. And he had told him that he would have time, that he wouldn't have to decide anything right now.

He only hoped that Harry would heed his words.

Yes, anything could happen tonight.

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"May I sit here?" A girl's voice got the three boy's out of their silent conversation about the levitating charm they were about to write and they turned to see Hermione Granger standing there, unsurely, a rather large charms book clasped in her arms. "All the other tables are already overfilled." She added, her voice nearly sounding apologetic.

Draco was about to refuse, not only knowing that Harry most likely would feel uncomfortable but also not really liking the Gryffindor know-it-all, but out of the corners of his eyes he could see Harry nodding and so he shrugged his shoulders.

"Course." He said, making room on the table.

They were sitting there for a while, quietly, and they had ceased their own conversation.

Not only because they were writing their essays, skimming through their charms books, but because Harry simply didn't feel talking in front of yet another Gryffindor. He knew that Draco didn't understand why he had chosen the library for doing their homework, but he really wanted to take the information from the book his father had mentioned and the first years weren't allowed to take any books from the library during the first term until they had proven that they were able to handle them with respect and care. And so they simply had to do their homework here.

They all remembered Professor Snape's words, that Harry shouldn't wander the corridors alone, and they did what they had been asked of. And so of course Draco and Theodore simply had to do their homework here as well. At the same time he wanted nothing else than going back to his father's rooms where he would be safe, especially now after Granger had come to sit at their table.

Of course, Granger was a girl and he didn't have really bad experiences with girls, but on the other hand – she was a person, she was human, she was one of the students. And so – she _could_ hurt him and he wasn't stupid enough to think that she would be safe just because she was a girl. And so he of course was not up to speaking much in front of her.

But her constant deepening frown made him curious. The more time had passed, the more her frown had deepened and he wondered why. The essay was not _that_ hard to write after all and the Gryffindor girl was not stupid after all. Looking over he noticed that even if a charms related book, it hadn't anything to do with the essay they had been given.

"What … what's that … what's that about?" He finally managed to ask, getting over his fears.

"It's Charms Masters in Britain and Europe." Granger answered and Harry frowned.

"Why would you read that?" Theodore asked, saving Harry the trouble doing that. He had watched his friend and he had seen the curiosity on the smaller boy's face.

"I'm searching for a person." The girl said. "I've heard about him and I wanted to know who he is."

"Whom?" Draco asked, not understanding the know-it-all. Was there no information safe of her?

"Nicolas Flamell." Granger answered and Harry frowned. "I've searched through the school books and through other first and second year books that are related to our subjects – nothing so far."

"Flamell … Flamell is an … an alchemist." Harry answered. "You … you should … you should look in … in the … in the potions … in the potions section."

"You know who Nicolas Flamell is?" Granger shouted, not only startling Harry but also causing Madam Pince to look over at them angrily.

"Lower your voice, Granger, or we'll be thrown out of here." Draco growled darkly.

"Sorry." The Gryffindor said while throwing an apologetic look towards the librarian. "What do you know about Nicolas Flamell?" She then asked, leaning onto the table and watching Harry with large eyes.

"Not … not much." Harry answered. He didn't want to talk with the girl too much. Maybe he would if he could talk like everyone else, but he couldn't. he had tried, taking deep breathes and speaking slowly, but it only helped getting better, it didn't solve the problem completely, and it only worked when it was together with Professor Snape in the man's quarters, and alone, not outside of in the presence of others. So – no, he really didn't want speaking right now. He only would make a fool out of himself. And being ridiculed by one Gryffindor per day definitely was enough, he didn't need a second one right now.

"Flamell is … is a cele- … a celebrated … alchemist … because … because he created …" Closing his eyes he took a deep breath. "He created the … the only known … the only known Philo- … philosopher's stone and … and lived for … and lived for over six hundred … six hundred years. Dumble- … Dumbledore did some … some exeri- … experiments … together … together with him."

Taking another deep breath he closed the book he had laying in front of him. He had his information anyway and he could write the rest in his room. He just was tired and he just didn't want to stay here any longer. He had spoken more in front of another student than ever and he didn't want hearing her comments that surely would come now.

"That's great." He heard Granger saying. "Thanks."

Just nodding at her he got off the table, placed the book back where it belonged to and then hurried off, quickly leaving the section and not even caring if Draco and Theodore came too. He just wanted to leave this place and the girl before she could say something that surely would hurt him. He had been stupid coming here in the first place anyway.

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Severus watched Harry close during dinner. The boy definitely looked annoyed and after Minerva had sent a note that the Weasley boy had detention with him on Saturday afternoon for verbally bullying Harry again – he thought it might be because of that. And in half an hour Dursley was supposed to visit.

Would Harry really be up to a visit from his cousin today? After all, it wasn't one of his better days as it seemed. Should he postpone the visit? What would it do to Harry if he did? And what to Dursley? Even if he had to admit – he didn't really care about that, Harry was the victim here, and Dursley would have to play by Harry's rules right now.

"How were your studies in the library, Harry?" He finally asked.

"Was ok, sir." The boy answered, rather playing with his food than actually eating, but then he looked up at him, watched him for a moment. "We've … we've met … Granger." He then added.

"Did you now." Severus said, lifting his eyebrow. He had thought Harry would say something about Weasley, not Granger, but as it seemed the boy had no intention telling him about the encounter with the youngest redhead. "It is a library, and it is rather common place to meet other students in." He then added.

"She'd … she'd asked to sit … to sit with us." Harry said, still playing with his food and Severus frowned.

"I would guess that it is only appropriate to ask before sitting down at an occupied table." He said. "Eat, Harry."

"She'd been looking for … looking for something and … and she didn't find it." Harry continued, this time really eating. "I had the infor- … information and I … and I told her."

"That was very considerate of you." The Potions Master answered. He thought he knew where this went. Harry had spoken in front of Granger and now he was unsure about the entire thing. "Eat." He again added when the boy picked on his food again, thinking, before he looked up at him again.

"She … she didn't say … she didn't say something be- … because of my … of me being … being stupid."

"Why should she do such a thing?" The fact that Harry still was not able to name things didn't sit well with him, the boy avoiding the word 'stuttering', but he knew that it would take time still.

"Because … because of … of my speech." The boy finally quietly said, averting his eyes to the plate in front of him.

"Aside from you being unsure, your speech is perfectly fine." Severus scowled. "And considering that you haven't spoken for years it's normal to be unsure now. It will time and it is nearly perfect when you feel safe actually. It will become better with practice."

"Really?" Harry asked, nearly smiling at him and he watched him with large and nearly begging eyes, begging him to say yes, to say that it would be alright one day.

"Yes." He answered. "You have to get used to speaking again, not only your vocal cords and your facial muscles, your throat, but your mind as well. You are not used to this and so you are still unsure, but it will improve with time and practice. I am proud of you that you did speak in front of another student, Harry."

There wasn't an answer to that, but the smile that spread over the boy's face was answer enough to him.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The knock on the door had Harry startled and looking frightened and after getting off his chair Severus watched his son for a moment before he went to the door.

"I still could cancel the visit if you are not ready for this, Harry." He offered, but immediately the boy shook his head and after another moment of watching harry close he finally gave a curt nod and then turned towards the entrance to his quarters, opened the door and looking down at Dursley.

The larger boy looked as scared and as unsure as did Harry, actually trembling, and he took a deep breath.

"Good evening, Mr. Dursley." The Potions Master greeted and then stepped aside, allowing the boy in.

Dudley looked around unsurely before spotting Harry who was sitting at the sofa, and he frowned. It was a sight he wasn't used to, Harry sitting on a sofa. Back at home Harry never had been allowed at the sofa or any furniture. Not that he thought Harry wouldn't be allowed, not that it … it just was strange.

Harry looked over the moment Dudley came into the Professor's living area and he could see the boy looking around unsurely before his eyes fell upon him, Harry, and he also could see the frown on his cousin's face. And he immediately knew the reason to the frown. He, Harry, the freak, was sitting at a sofa and immediately instincts took over.

Severus Snape, Potions Master, Head of Slytherin and Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, had a hard time watching Dudley Dursley's first reaction towards Harry, watching his son's reaction to Dursley's frown, trying to quickly find a reason as to why exactly the boy might have frowned in the first place and finally to consider his next step and last but not least to find an appropriate way to react before Harry could react and fall back and harm himself.

And so he went over to Harry, trying to walk quickly without hurrying, and the moment Harry moved to stand, to leave the sofa, remembering that he hadn't been allowed sitting on any furniture at the Dursleys, he softly placed his hand onto the boy's shoulder, keeping him from scurrying off the sofa while he looked down at the boy with a pointed look that clearly said – 'you are not to leave that sofa because you have every right sitting here'.

"Take a seat, Mr. Dursley." He finally said, extending his hand to the armchair that stood farthest from Harry, waiting until the other boy had complied his request with a quiet "hi, Harry" before he himself sat down into his usual armchair, closer to the edge of the sofa his son was sitting in.

Harry didn't answer verbally, only gave his cousin a curt nod of greeting, watching him warily and Severus knew how uncomfortable he was. The fact that he didn't speak was proof enough of that.

One day, he vowed, one day his son wouldn't feel like this. One day he would stand tall and look into the Dursleys' eyes and he would be able to tell them his opinion. He would be able to stand tall and face them without fear and without insecurity. He would make sure of that. And that – was the reason as to why he was glad that they still lived.

There was silence for a while, a silence neither of them broke, all of them lost in their own thoughts for a while, Harry trying to keep his composure and to keep sitting on the sofa, Severus watching both boys and waiting for what would happen next, and Dudley considering how to start and what words to use. It was him who finally made the first step, knowing that neither Harry nor Professor Snape would help him here, knowing that he had to start.

"I … I wanted to apologize." He finally said, addressing his knees before he looked up, first at the Potions Master and then at Harry. "I know that I've been horrible to you and I know that I've hurt you, and I know that you probably won't accept my apology, but I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I really am."

Harry blinked in utter shock at his cousin.

Of course he knew that Dudley had come to apologize, Professor Snape – his father, damn – his father had told him, after all. But he hadn't thought that he really would do that. He had thought that Dudley would come here to gawk at him and to make fun of him and he had thought that … he didn't really know what he had thought, what he had _feared_, but not a sincere apology.

And now he watched his cousin who looked at him with a miserable and pale face, and with large and pleading eyes, begging him to accept the apology.

But how could he do that?

How could he accept his cousin's apology? He wasn't even sure if the other boy should apologize in the first place. Somehow this apology made his father's words he so often had told him real and true. That it hadn't been punishment, that he hadn't been a bad boy, that he hadn't deserved all of this, that it had been abuse and nothing else, that it wasn't his fault.

And suddenly he didn't know what to do, what to believe.

Frightened and unsurely he gazed over at his father, but the older wizard only watched him back, his face expressionless, neither telling him what to do, nor telling him that his thoughts were correct or wrong. And he was sure that his father knew what he thought. He always knew what he thought.

If the aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon had been right, and it all had been his punishment for being a bad boy, for being a freak, then Dudley shouldn't apologize, because then it wasn't Dudley's fault. But if Professor Snape, if his father, was right and it only had been abuse and that it never had been his, Harry's, fault – then how could he now accept his cousin's apology, never mind how sincere it was? How could he be able to forget?

"I know that you probably don't believe me, Harry." Dudley tried again, still looking at him with large and pleading eyes. "And I understand that you are angry with me, but I really am sorry. I've never thought about your feelings, I've never … I know that it isn't an excuse, but I only did what dad had taught me. I've never thought about _you_ in this. I mean …" With a sigh he broke off, lowering his head again and looking at his knees. "I'm just sorry."

Of course he knew that he couldn't demand an answer from Harry. Professor Snape had spoken to him before he had allowed him this visit and he had told him that most likely Harry wouldn't accept his apology right now. And he also had told him that it wouldn't be his place then to press for an answer, that it wouldn't be his place to demand anything from Harry – ever. The Professor had been very clear about that. He had hurt Harry, had hurt him badly, and now he would have to deal with the consequences – namely living with the knowledge that maybe his cousin never would forgive him.

But he wanted this so badly.

The past few weeks, after he had started to think, after he had realized what he had done, how much he had hurt Harry and how ill Harry now was because of this, he always had felt so miserable. And then watching Harry in classes and in the Great Hall, watching how tired, and how pale and how thin he was, and watching him struggling through the day, watching him how wary and scared he was – it had been really horrible and he had wanted nothing else than approaching his cousin and trying to make it better.

But Professor Snape had forbidden that, and he could understand why he had forbidden that.

In the beginning he had hated the weekly appointments Professor Snape had set, had hated the man, had hated this school, had hated anything and everything. And he had been scared. He wasn't stupid, and he knew that what his parents had called freakish things was magic, and that what his parents had called freaks were wizards and witches. And so of course he knew that they surely could do horrible things with their magic, had even seen what they could do when he had come here to Hogwarts. And with each appointment he had feared what Professor Snape could punish him with.

But soon he had learned that the wizard wouldn't punish him, that he actually cared, that he tried to make a point, to show him what he had done wrong. That he tried to help him. And then he had started to not hate Harry or Professor Snape anymore, but himself and what he had done. But again Professor Snape had said that he shouldn't hate himself, that this wouldn't be the right thing and that it would solve nothing – something he hadn't expected the teacher would say.

So – no, he didn't hate this here anymore and he had learned to actually enjoy those talks with the teacher. He had learned to live here and he even had made friends. He had started to see things with different eyes and so – yes, he wanted to take part in Harry's life and he wanted Harry taking part in his, Dudley's life.

"I … I've brought you something." He said, leaning over reaching the small box he had packed towards Harry. He waited a few moments, but then he placed the small box onto the table, pushing it over to Harry when the other boy didn't take it. Professor Snape had warned him about that too. Had told him that probably Harry wouldn't take the box from him and that in this case he simply should place it onto the table, that Harry maybe would take it later.

'_Or never.'_ He thought miserably.

"It isn't much, and it's not new." He continued. "I know you always had to wear my old things and that maybe I shouldn't give you my old things now, but I also know that you always wanted those crayons and so I thought … well, dunno … I thought it would be nice if you had them. Not others but _them_."

Severus watched the tense boy on the sofa, is son, and he could see the struggle. The struggle of deciding whether to accept his cousin's apology or not, the struggle whether to take the box his cousin had placed at the table or not, the struggle to make any move or to say anything or not.

He still was not ready to interfere, knowing that this was something both boys had to solve on their own – however they would solve it, for the better or for the worse, knowing that they would have to make their own way through this. He would be there to give them whatever strength or comfort he would be able to give with his presence and he would be there to keep the situation from getting out of hands, but he wouldn't interfere, not now, not if it were not absolutely necessary.

He could understand Dursley's misery and a part of him actually pitied the boy.

Dudley Dursley had changed and he had watched these changes with some sense of satisfaction and pride. And somehow he now wished that the efforts he had made throughout the past weeks would be rewarded, but at the same time he also could understand that Harry simply wasn't able to accept his cousin's efforts as if nothing had happened. The pain he had been through, the emotional pain as well as the physical pain, simply had been too deep for that.

Petunia and Vernon Dursley didn't know what they had done.

No child should ever go through such a situation. neither having to go through abuse like Harry had, neither being beaten and starved and locked away in a cupboard for days, nor having to decide if he could forgive another child for having partaken in this abuse. And no child should ever go through such a situation, having to live with the guilt of having destroyed another child's life, having to sit there and asking for forgiveness, knowing that most likely it wouldn't be given.

No, they really didn't know what they had done, what they had done to their own son as well as to Harry. They had destroyed two children's lives.

"I guess you'll need time." Dudley finally said with a sigh. "I can understand. Just wanted to say sorry and give this to you." And with those words he slowly got up.

"S- … sor- … sorry." Harry's trembling and scared voice suddenly was heard, and Severus narrowed his eyes at the boy. Neither did he like the fact that Harry apologized in the first place, nor the way his speech had worsened upon one single word.

Dudley too seemed startled and he looked over at his cousin, blinking in shock and shaking his head.

"No!" The boy nearly shouted. "It's not you who should apologize. It's I! You didn't do anything wrong, it was I and dad! And mum! You … you didn't do anything! I'm just sorry!" And with those words he turned and fled the room, running, while tears ran down his face and he didn't even close the door after he had left.

For a moment Severus considered to go after the upset boy but one look at Harry showed that his son too was crying and his priorities were clear. He had to stay with Harry, he had to stay with his son, and so he simply leaned over and pulled the smaller child into his arms until the boy sat on his lap. Running one hand down Harry's spine and keeping his other hand on the child's head, keeping him close to his chest, he refused to let go and simply called for Zilly.

"Please inform Professor McGonagall that Mr. Dursley might need assistance, Zilly." He quietly said before he turned his attention to his son alone, running calming circles over the child's back and speaking quiet words of comfort until the boy's quiet sobs changed into hitched breathes which slowly, after a few more minutes calmed down and then evened out, indicating that Harry – yet again – had fallen asleep on his lap.

How was it that this blasted child fell asleep on him so easily while it took hours until he drifted off into sleep in his own bed, waking only a few hours later without being able to go back sleeping …

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_the family holiday - and going back to Prince Manor … _

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	63. Lily and the hopping pot

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well … I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings … J. K. Rowling owns them all … I just borrow them a bit …

Uhm … and well … sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts … I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this … I at least promise to try …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before … thank you … and yes … I would be glad to receive more responses …

and then I'd wish to say that - sorry for my long absence in this story … but finishing "21 days" had been my first priority just before I went on my well deserved vacation …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help … there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_He turned his attention to his son alone, running calming circles over the child's back and speaking quiet words of comfort until the boy's quiet sobs changed into hitched breathes which slowly, after a few more minutes calmed down and then evened out, indicating that Harry – yet again – had fallen asleep on his lap. _

_How was it that this blasted child fell asleep on him so easily while it took hours until he drifted off into sleep in his own bed, waking only a few hours later without being able to go back sleeping …_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter sixty-three**

**Lily**** and the hopping pot**

"But … but how?" Harry asked him – for the thousandth time – and he took a deep breath.

"You simply wish for it, Harry." He calmly explained – yet again.

"But … but I don-don't know … don't know _how_!" Harry desperately tried to make himself clear.

"Sit down, child!" He finally said, taking his son's shoulder and leading him from the dining room, into the large parlour and then turning him towards the fireplace. He himself sat down at the soft carpet and he stretched out his hand towards the warming fire in the grate. A moment later a happy flame was dancing just inches above his outstretched hand.

Harry himself sat down at the soft carpet, facing him, but he didn't take a flame over from the fire, knowing that it wasn't his time now. Of course he knew that Harry would be able handling a flame on his own, he had done so more than once by now after all, but while he knew that the child would manage he nevertheless wouldn't allow him doing so without his absolute attention and right now he had a flame on his own and right now he wanted Harry concentrating on not elemental magic but his wishes. The flame only would be an – assistant.

"Close your eyes, Harry." He said when the boy sat opposite him, watching him with awe at how easy he had the flame coming over to him. "Alright, and now just listen to me and do as I say. Tell me what form you would like the flame in."

"A … a drop, like water." Harry softly but clearly said, not opening his eyes, knowing that he would tell him when to open them.

"Good." Severus answered, transforming the flame into the shape of a drop. "I know that for years you have not been allowed wishing for something and therefore I also know that you do not know how to wish for something now, at least not openly. What colour would you like the flame becoming?"

"Green … and blue." Harry answered, his voice still soft but clear and – for once – confident and he knew that the boy had started relaxing. He even could feel the child transferring his magic towards the flame that hovered over his, Severus', hand and he nearly smiled. Yes, the child had become rather good when it came to elemental magic.

"Good." He again said. "All our lives are based on our wishes. The wish for freedom, the wish for safety, the wish for calmness, the wish for friends, the wish for success – there are many wishes we have. And you will have to learn how to voice your wishes, how to fight for your wishes. Because if we never voice them, if we never make sure that they are coming true – then they won't. A slave that does not wish for freedom won't have a chance in the first place. A person that does not wish for love never will experience love and a child that does not wish for friends won't have them to begin with. A student that does not wish for good marks won't work for them and therefore won't get them. Our entire life is formed by our wishes. We just have to make sure that they come true, we have to fight for them. Do you understand that?"

"Yes." Harry again answered.

"Good." He inclined his own head for a moment. "What kind of sound would you like the flame making? Do not answer that question, but think of your wish, imagine it only."

A few moments later the flame that up to now had given away a soft and crackling noise – became deeper in sound. And he again inclined his head. He had known that the child would make the sound deeper without making it louder. Harry hated loud noises while he preferred deep tunes to high or shrill ones that only startled him.

"Very good." He softly said. "Listen to the flame and listen to my words. You too will have to learn wishing for something. You will have to learn that you even have the _right_ to wish for something. You have the same right for wishing something than any other child, than any other human being has. And you will have to learn how to voice your wishes – because if you do not, then you will be eighty or ninety years old and still your wishes have not been fulfilled – because you never voiced them, because no one knew you had them, and because you never have fought for them. Do you understand that?"

"Yes." Came Harry's answer once more, quietly but surely. But then – "But … but aunt Petunia always said … she always said that I had to be … that I had to be silent. And she always said … she always said that speech is silver, but silence is golden."

"That might not be entirely wrong, Harry." The Potions Master said, watching the boy close, taking in the still calm face even if Harry had just talked about his horrible past what surely wasn't easy for him to do. He also noticed that the boy – despite the difficult subject, namely his abuse at the hands of his relatives – that the boy didn't stutter like he normally would upon approaching that subject. "That might be correct to some point at least, because indeed, speech is silver and silence is golden, but the one who _has_ gold can afford being silent because he does not need anything else or more. On the other hand – the one who does not have gold, the one who would need gold to buy food and clothes to survive, this one cannot afford being silent. This one has to voice his needs – or his wishes to survive. Silence – agrees. Do you see my point?"

"Yes." Harry answered and he even could see a small smile spreading over the small face. He would like to know the reason that had caused this small smile, but he didn't dare asking, wanting the child back on concentrating onto his wishes.

"Good." Severus then said, taking a deep breath. "And now – what would you wish from your mother, if she were here? Do not say your wish aloud, just think of it like you have done with the flame before."

He watched the child's face, watched the concentration, the small but sad smile and a few moments there was nothing, no reaction, no anything. But then – he nearly couldn't keep from gasping the moment he felt soft magic swirling in the room, soft magic that definitely was Harry's magic, Harry's magic and – Lily's.

"Merlin!" He couldn't help whispering, gaining a soft chuckle for his outburst, a chuckle that had Harry opening his eyes, gasping himself and he followed his son's eyes.

"Do not look so startled, Severus." Lily said, sitting at the floor near them, smiling happily. "My deepest wishes have come true and you two have found together, did you really think I would deny your wishes on this special day now?"

"Mom?" Harry asked, his voice small and shaking and worriedly Severus forced himself to look away from Lily and over at his son.

"Yes, Harry, dear." Lily answered, she too was looking at her son with warm and worried eyes now.

"Are you … are you really …" The young wizarding child asked, not able to finish his question while he lifted his hand and leaned forwards, as if trying to touch her.

"Yes, Harry." She answered, her voice going sad however and she shifted a bit so that she was sitting in front of Harry directly now, fixing her green eyes into those of her son. "Not for long however and not in a way you might understand. I am here, but you won't be able touching me, child. I am here, but I am not reality – I'm only a ghost. I am dead after all and nothing can bring the dead back. I am sure that you know this, don't you?"

"Dad … dad told me." Harry said, his voice still small and shaking.

Lily looked over her shoulder at him, Severus, and he couldn't help hitching a breath, had to blink his eyes in order to keep his blasted tears at bay and where they belonged to – wherever that was – but he could see the satisfaction in Lily's green eyes and he was happy that she seemed happy.

"That is very good, Harry, dear." She said. "I can't stay long, child, like I said. But I've come to grant you a wish – and to see you. You have come a long way since you are here, child, and I want you to know that I'm very proud of you, child. Now – what would you wish for?"

"I … I don't know." The boy quietly answered, his eyes still large on his mother's face while tears were running down the still so pale and bony cheeks.

"Anything would be fine, Harry, dear." Lily said, reassuringly, calmly, a hint of sad understanding in her voice.

"I … I would like … I mean … if something will happen, ever, and dad will forget me … could you … could you make him remembering again? I don't want … I don't want going back to aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon, mom! They're horrible! Please?"

"Oh, child!" Lily whispered, her voice trembling now as bad as did Harry's. "You never were meant going to them. You should have been Severus' from the beginning on and I can't tell you how sorry I am, child. I … of course I will grant you your wish, Harry, dear! If something should happen, ever, and Severus will forget … I'll make sure he'll remember."

"Thank you, mom." Harry whispered, crying openly now and Severus couldn't resist his instincts any longer, went over to his son and took him into his arms, Harry immediately hiding his face between the folds of his shirt like he so often had done during the past two months.

"He loves you deeply, Severus." Lily's voice caused him to look up at her again, the only woman he ever had loved sitting directly in front of him now. "And he trusts you with all his heart. You have done an incredible job, my love, bringing him so far in such a short time and I am so very proud of you too. I'm sorry, Severus, that this all happened, I'm so sorry."

"It was not your fault, Lily." He quietly said.

He could see her sad eyes going back to Harry who had turned in his arms, was now resting with his back against his chest so that he could see his mother, Lily, and he was sure that the child tried to soak up that sight, Lily's face, her green eyes that watched him, her sad smile – like a sponge would soak up water.

He could feel the small form he was holding in his arms trembling, slightly only and he immediately knew that this time it wasn't because of fear, or because of pain or exhaustion, but because of nerves, because of excitement, because of having his mother here, his mother who was dead since he had been too small to remember her – and now she was here. Of course the child was excited and nervous. He even wondered how Harry managed just sitting there on his lap instead of leaping at her and trying to throw his little arms around her neck.

He was glad that he didn't try that, because he was sure that the child would be devasted the moment he realized that he indeed could not touch her – nor being touched by his mother either. But he wondered. He himself wanted nothing else than doing just this.

"I know." The ghost answered. "Neither was it yours, Severus. And nevertheless I'm sorry that all of this happened in the first place. I love you still, Severus, and I always will do. But now I need to know your wish, I don't have much more time."

"Lily!" He nearly choked on this one word. Why did she have to go so soon? Why couldn't she stay just a few minutes more? He knew that he wouldn't be able to take her into his arms like he had done so often back then, when she still had been alive and he also knew that he couldn't keep her in his world, that she didn't belong here – but if she just could stay a bit longer, just a few minutes so that he could look at her, memorize her soft and beautiful face once again.

And nevertheless he knew – nothing and no one could bring the dead back, not even magic or a wizard and he knew – alone the fact that she was here, even in her ghost form, it was a small miracle as one normally might feel the magic of this holiday and of his dead beloved but would not be visited by them personally.

"Your wish, Severus, quickly, please."

"Give me strength to bring Harry back to health." He simply said and the smile that spread over Lily's face told him that – yes, she would do so. A moment later she was gone.

"I love you too." He whispered to the empty space where Lily just moments before had been sitting with them.

"I know." Came a faint whisper before the only sound heard were Harry's quiet sobs and his own heavy breathing.

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It was the sixth night now and Gibbon wondered why there never had been a warden coming. He had used wandless magic night for nigh since Saturday after all, to get them out of their cells, to unlock the Dursleys' cells and to lock them after they were finished and – last but not least – the silencing spells and the spells they had cast upon the Dursleys so far.

Well, maybe the wardens knew what they did, but didn't care. Maybe they even were thankful _that_ they did, as the wardens themselves couldn't do anything, he thought with a smirk on his face.

Of course he knew that it was Harry Potter they were defending. He wasn't stupid, neither of them was. They got a piece of the newspaper from time to time and they had news from other prisoners – and even from one warden or another. So, they knew who the Dursleys were and they knew who the child was they had tortured for years. They also were Death Eaters, most of them anyway, and so they also knew that it had been Harry Potter who had defeated the Dark Lord years ago. But they also knew that not even the Dark Lord would torture a child like the Dursleys had. The Dark Lord preferred a fair fight if possible.

He had been about to kill Potter, yes, due to the prophecy, but he hadn't been out to torture him, just to kill him. Quickly and clean. It hadn't been the Dark Lord's fault that it had come to that, that he'd been defeated by a child. But Potter had done nothing that warranted such torture either. He'd defeated the Dark Lord in a fair situation – well, if one could call it a fair situation, an adult trying to kill a one year old child. Whatever had happened, it simply had happened.

And so – they still were angry at the Dursleys and they would go on with their own fun. _They_, the Dursleys – _they_ were adults after all and _they_ had done a horrible crime after all, they _deserved_ what they got, point!

"Why are you doing this to us?" The thin woman asked and he sneered at her in disgust. She hadn't learned her lesson yet, as it seemed.

"Because you have tortured an innocent wizarding child over years and we do nothing that you have not done to him as well."

Well, it was true. The first night they'd been here they had cast a spell over them that would keep them hungry despite the food they ate. The second night they'd cast a spell over them that would keep them tired and exhausted despite the sleep they had. The third night they had cast a spell that would wake them each night because of horrible nightmares about what they'd done.

A tricky thing had been Thursday night. They had used dark magic to have them feeling hated by each other. He was sure that Vernon and Petunia Dursley did not love each other, not in the true sense of love anyway, but they didn't hate each other either, they stuck together. But he knew that Potter had been hated by them and so he had wanted them feeling the same, feeling being hated.

The tricky thing had been – he'd needed them feeling being hated without hating the other part back. If they really would hate each other, then they wouldn't suffer from being hated by the other part. But if they still 'loved' each other, whatever twisted kind of love they shared, then that hate would hurt them as bad as Potter had been hurt by them. And therefore they had been in need of using dark magic – something that wasn't easily done here in Azkaban and surely not without the notice of a warden. But again – none of the wardens had come.

Yesterday had been easy again. They had cast a spell over them that would have them hearing the other's voice, telling them how worthless and pathetic they were, freaks, things only, slaves that didn't deserve the cell they were living in now, each other's voices that berated them constantly, that abused them verbally, just like they had done with Potter.

Lifting his hand he looked over at Travers, knowing that it was better to do the spell simultaneously. If they were caught, then this way only one of them was in trouble – hopefully.

"Wait." A soft voice called over and they all turned towards the voice. It neither was the shrill voice of Petunia Dursley, nor the booming voice of Vernon Dursley. And surely it wasn't the voice of one of the other prisoners, it wasn't even any male voice but a soft female one. One that was sad and angry at the same time, one that was calm and strong – and so very definite.

A moment later however all of them gasped. Jugson and Selwyn actually took a step backwards, releasing Petunia Dursley in the process while Wilkes instinctively pulled Vernon Dursley closer, his hand on the fat whale's throat in a threatening manner, using him as a shield.

"A very effective shield you have here, Mr. Wilkes." The woman said, nearly chuckling. "Anyone hiding behind my brother-in-law won't be hit by anything."

"Lily?" Petunia Dursley asked and Gibbon narrowed his eyes. Of course he'd already seen that this woman was a ghost, but he hadn't known who – except for the fact that apparently she didn't mind Dursley being used as a shield, rather thought it funny. So – that was Potter's mother? The woman that had died protecting her son? Killed by the Dark Lord? Well, if this really was Potter's mother, then he didn't want wearing the Dursleys' shoes right now, that was for sure!

"Yes, Petunia." The Potter woman said, coming through the bars of her sister's cell, not caring to use the open door, most likely to increase the fear her sister right now felt. "And I am here to personally revenge my son for what you have done to him. I've seen him tonight, you know? And he's so small and thin because you starved him for years. He still suffers from all you have done to him for all those years. He wasn't even able to fulfill his wish on the family holiday without persuation, due to your abuse. And now you will pay for what you've done."

"But we're already punished!" Petunia screamed, squealed actually, her face white and her eyes nearly jumping out of their sockets. "We're imprisoned and they … they're torturing us!"

"I do not care what they do or do not, Petunia." Lily said, making clear that she did not feel any pity. "Did you ever care what your husband did to Harry? To your own nephew? To my son? No, Petunia, you did not care. You allowed your husband to torture my son while you did the same. If you had died, Petunia, do you _not_ think that I would have taken your son by free will and that I would have cared for him like I did for my own? I would have loved him and I would have raised him well and without hate. You did not. You have been punished by law, you have been punished by society through your fellow prisoners – now you will be punished by family."

Lifting her hand and closing her eyes the woman concentrated and a moment later soft green magic swirled around the cells, coming close to first Travers who looked startled before he took a step backwards. The soft green magic didn't bother about Travers but continued on to the next Death Eater while a second trace of magic went over to the other cell, coming close to Wilkes who gritted his teeth but refused to let go of the whale.

Gibbon watched the faint magic that had approached Petunia Dursley, that stopped before it encircled her entire body and then vanished, leaving a horrifying looking woman back while the other woman that had cast the – whatever it was – watched her sister with sad but angry eyes. A mother that truly had revenged her son.

"You will have to let go of your shield, Mr. Wilkes." The Potter woman then said, coming through the bars into their cell. "I do not wish to harm you, even if you too have done horrible things. But it is not my place to punish you for anything. I am here for revenge on my son only and I won't be able doing so without harming you in the process while you touch him."

"We can continue after that?" Wilkes asked, his eyes narrowed at the ghost and Gibbon couldn't help rolling his own eyes.

"The Dursley woman's still alive so this won't kill _him_ either." He huffed. "Now release him or I'll give Mrs. Potter permission to cast her magic over you as well."

Giving away a guttural growl Wilkes let go of Dursley and a moment later the soft green magical glow encircled the whale and then vanished within the body that slumped to the ground, his trousers wet and he inwardly laughed at the sight. Inwardly only, mind you, as it was clear that Lily Potter was a true Lady. Her entire stance, her entire appearance, even as a ghost, showed that she was a true Lady and he always had showed respect and manners towards a true Lady.

"Not so brave anymore, are you now, Vernon?" Lily Potter asked, approaching the whale and kneeling down in front of the quivering mess. "I'm sure that will happen once in a while to you now, just so you know how Harry has felt under your torture – you will feel the same fear and you will feel the same pain."

"What … what … what have you done to us?" The Dursley woman asked, her voice small and frightened.

"Nothing more than you have done to Harry, nothing more than you have done to my son, to your own nephew, to your own flesh and blood, to your own family. My magic will have you beaten up on a daily basis – for the rest of your miserable lives."

"Hey!" Wilkes growled at the ghost. "That's been our spell for tonight!"

"Shut up, Wilkes!" Gibbon hissed at the stupid man, going against not only a mother that was about to revenge her son but a ghost no less. How stupid was this man? "Mrs. Potter has every right to do this spell, you idiot! Family revenge goes before social revenge, even before law punishment. Or what do you think is the reason as to why one family member is allowed in a prisoner's cell before a law punishment is fulfilled? Idiot!"

"Mr. Gibbon is right, Mr. Wilkes." The Potter woman said, gazing at the man. "It was my right and you simply have to find another spell. I'm sure you'll find one that is fitting for a man that has raped a child."

"Actually – yes." Wilkes smirked and Gibbon rolled his eyes. That man had no decency in front of a Lady, honestly! Said Lady however just lifted her eyebrow before she turned to leave the cell.

"You … Lily … please!" Petunia Dursley whispered, causing the ghost to turn back to her sister once more.

"Did you ever listen to my son's pleas?" She asked, but then she gave a short nod. "I thought so." She simply said and then turned for good, left the cell and then vanished while floating along the corridor until she was gone back to wherever she'd come from.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry had cried himself to sleep in his arms and Severus had carried him to his room, had carried him to bed. He himself had cried after Lily had left, for the first time since many years.

Of course he had cried after Lily's death, secretly he had cried bitter tears back then. But with the time it had gotten better. With the time he had been able to deal with Lily's death and it had become easier. And over the years he had been able to think of her without the need of tears, without that deep and burning pain that threatened to rip him to pieces.

But her sudden appearance and her words, they had been too much, not only for Harry, but for him as well and he hadn't been able to keep from following his son's example – namely simply crying until they both had been tired and exhausted.

He hadn't even bothered going to his own bedroom but had laid beside his son, had wrapped his arms around the sleeping form and had fallen asleep himself only moments later. And for both of them it seemed to have been a peaceful sleep without nightmares.

"Sir?" Harry asked, getting him out of his musings.

"Yes, Harry?" He asked back, looking at the child that was sitting to his right on the breakfast table.

"She's … she's beautiful." The boy said, looking at him with large eyes as if he had said something that could be wrong.

"That she is, Harry." He reassured, taking the boy's cup and refilling it with hot chocolate from a pitcher on the table. "She is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, Harry, and not only her appearance but her entire being. Her heart is just as beautiful as is her face and her hair – as is everything that is Lily."

"Would … would you … really … would you really … would … _damn_!" The boy shouted in his frustration but a moment later green eyes went large, watching him with a startled and frightened expression in a face that was as white as chalk – and horrified.

"I … I'm … I'm sor-sorry … real-really … I …"

Back to square one – and Severus sighed.

"While I do not approve of children swearing, I do understand your frustration right now and sometimes it is important that we release our emotions instead of bottling them up." He calmly said, his dark eyes never leaving the startled green ones of his son, knowing that whatever he did, he had to stay calm right now and he had to hide his own frustration – even knowing that physically comforting the boy right now in this moment only would lead to a panic attack, most likely to the boy fleeing. In a moment he could touch the child, but not right now, he knew.

"We are in privacy and no harm is done, Harry." He then continued. "I just ask you to refer from doing so in public. And now close your eyes. Good. Take a deep breath. We have time, Harry, there is no need for haste and there is no need to get out what you want to say in five seconds. And now release your breath and ask your question, slowly and calmly."

Of course he knew what Harry had wanted to ask, namely if he really would have married Lily if she had not died in this fateful night on October 31st so many years ago, but he wanted the boy to ask his question on his own. It was time that Harry started becoming more confident with speaking and he only would get more confidence if he actually used his voice, if he kept him speaking. Maybe it even was time to …

"Would you … would you really … would you really have married her?" The child then asked, getting his concentration back at his son. "I mean … it's … it's strange, it's strange … the thought of … of you and mom … I'd have liked … liked it though."

"Yes, I can imagine." He said. "I too would have liked this. Follow me, Harry, we still have a few hours left until we have to go back to Hogwarts."

Getting off the table Severus led the way back to the parlor and then pointed at the sofa.

"Sit down, Harry." He said while checking the book shelf. He went over the titles, discarding those that were academic books only. There weren't many left after that, but well – he actually did _not_ have only academic books and a few moments later he smirked. Taking the book from the shelf he went over to the boy that obediently had sat down. He took his own seat in his usual armchair when being here at home and then he reached the book towards Harry – who took it with a questioning look on his face.

"Read it." He simply said, making himself comfortable.

Well, Harry didn't even ask if he meant now or later, he simply took the book and obediently started reading.

"No, Harry." He calmly said. "I want you reading it out aloud."

Again there was no "but" even if he knew that the boy would have liked giving away a "but" – he looked uncomfortable and scared. And he knew why. But there was no "but" coming, it never came.

Harry always kept his words not only soft and hesitant but as short as possible just as well – and reading an entire text out aloud now, it surely was nothing the child was confident with. But he knew that he had to get Harry used to not only talking but using his voice in general and if reading a book out aloud would do the trick, then be it, then he would have him reading.

He watched the child fussing for a moment, but then Harry sighed in defeat and simply started doing as he was told – namely reading.

"The … the wizard … and … and the hopping … and the hopping pot …" The boy read, the title sounding more like a question than like a title at all and he even looked over at him questioningly after he had read the title. The Potions Master simply gave a reassuring nod, leaning back in his armchair.

"There … there was once a … a kindly old wizard who used his … his magic … generously and … and wisely for the benefit of his … of his neighbours." Again the boy looked over at him questioningly and again he simply gave an encouraging nod away, slowly waving his hand to indicate – yes, go on reading.

"Rather than … rather than revealing the true source of his power, he … of his power, he pretended that his portions, charms and … charms and antidotes sprang ready-made from the little cauldron he called his lucky cooking pot … cooking pot. From miles around, people came to him with their … with their troubles, and the wizard was pleased to give his pot a stir, and put … and put things right."

Again there was the questioning look coming from the boy and again he nodded reassuringly and silently asking the boy to go on reading.

"This well-beloved … this well-beloved wizard lived to a goodly age, then died, leaving all his … leaving all his chattels to his only son. This son was of a very diff-different … different dispo-disposition … disposition to his gentle father … gentle father. This son was of a very different disposition to his gentle father. Those who could not work magic … those who could not work magic were, to the son's mind, worthless, and he had often quarrelled with his father's habit of … with his father's habit of dispensing magical aid to their neighbours.

Upon … upon the father's death, the son found hidden inside the old cooking pot a small … a small package bearing his name. He opened it … he opened it, hoping for gold, but found … but found instead a soft, thick slipper, much too small to wear, and with no pair. A fragment … a fragment of parchment within the slipper bore the words _'in the fond hope, my son, that you will never need it.'_

The son cursed … the son cursed his father's age-softened mind, then threw the slipper back into the cauldron … into the cauldron, resolving to use it … to use it henceforth as a rubbish pail. That very night a … that very night a peasant woman knocked on the front door.

'My grand- … my granddaughter is … my granddaughter is afflicted by a crop of warts, sir,' she told him. 'Your father used to mix a special … to mix a special poultice in that old cooking pot-'

'Begone … begone!' cried the son. 'What care I … what care I for your brat's warts?' And he slammed the door in the old woman's face. That's … that's not nice!" Harry said, looking up from the book and over at him with large eyes and he nearly smiled. So far Harry had read the story with the minimum of speaking problems possible – like he had hoped.

Here, while simply reading, Harry did not have to concentrate on what he wanted to say, nor on how he wanted it to say. There was no order in which he wanted things being said, and he didn't have to concentrate onto anything else than the text. What made the entire thing easier and therefore ceased his speaking problems – what at the same time gave the child more confidence as he surely noticed the change. Not now maybe, but when thinking the situation over later he would notice.

"No, that it was not." He answered. "Continue."

And the boy did.

"At once there came a loud … there came a loud clanging and banging from his kitchen. The wizard lit his wand and opened the door, and there, to his … to his amazement, he saw his father's old cooking pot: It had sprouted … it had sprouted a single foot of brass, and was hopping on the spot in the middle of the floor … in the middle of the floor, making a fearful noise upon the flagstones. The wizard approached … the wizard approached it in wonder, but fell back hurriedly when he saw that the whole of the pot's surface was covered … was covered in warts.

'Disgusting … disgusting object!' he cried, and he tried firstly to vanish the pot, then to clean it by magic, and finally … and finally to force it out of the house. None of his spells … none of his spells worked, however, and he was unable to prevent the pot hopping after him … hopping after him out of the kitchen, and then following him up to bed, clanging and banging loudly on ever wooden stair. It's his … it's his own fault!"

"Yes, it is." Severus said. "Continue."

He had noticed a pattern, Harry not really stuttering like he once used to but simply repeating parts of the sentences, mostly at the beginning of a sentence or before reading difficult words and he would like having proof of that. The problem was – he could tell that the boy was getting tired from all the loud reading. Never before had the child spoken so much after all.

"The wizard could not … the wizard could not sleep all night for the banging of the warty old pot by his bedside, and the next morning the pot insisted … the pot insisted upon hopping after him to the breakfast table. _Clang, clang, clang _went the brass-footed pot, and the wizard … and the wizard had not even started his porridge when there came another knock on the door.

An old man … an old man stood on the doorstep.

''Tis … 'tis? … 'tis my old donkey, sir,' he explained. 'Lost she is … lost she is, or stolen, and without her I cannot take my wares to market, and my family … and my family will go hungry tonight.'

'And I am hungry … and I am hungry now!' roared … roared the wizard, and he slammed the door upon the old man. He … he's really mean! He's a wizard and … and he could've helped."

"Indeed." The Potions Master said, not ready to go into a discussion about wizards and their somewhat unhealthy relationship with muggles right now. That would be for later. Right now he wanted the child to go on reading as he noticed that indeed the child did more than just well. "Continue. We will discuss it later." He promised.

And again the boy _did_ go on.

"_Clang, clang, clang_ went the cooking pot's single brass foot … went the cooking pot's single brass foot upon the floor, but now its clamour … now its clamour was mixed with the brays of a donkey and human … and human groans … and human groans of … of hunger, echoing … echoing from the depths of the pot.

'Be still. Be silent!' shrieked … shrieked the wizard, but not all his magical powers … his magical powers could quieten the warty pot, which hopped … which hopped by his heels all day, braying and … braying and groaning and clanging, no matter where he went or what he did.

That evening there came … that evening there came a third knock upon the door, and there on the threshold … on the threshold stood a young woman sobbing as though her heart would break.

'My baby is grievously ill … is grievously ill,' she said. 'Won't you please help us? Your father … your father bade me come if troubled –' But the wizard slammed the door on her. And now the tormenting pot … and now the tormenting pot filled to the brim with salt water, and slopped tears all over the floor as it hopped, and brayed, and groaned, and sprouted more warts."

Taking a deep breath the boy closed the book with his finger between the pages, sat up for a moment before slumping his shoulders and running his hand over his eyes, and Severus recognized the signs of simple tiredness and exhaustion. The boy had used his voice – that even had started becoming softer and slower now – in a way he never before had. He was sure that even before he had stopped speaking for so many years, he never had spoken so much as he had right now.

"It is alright." He softly said, placing his hand on the boy's arm the moment he reopened the book to go on reading. "You have done very well, Harry, and we will continue tomorrow. You may pack this book into your bag to take it with you to Hogwarts if you so wish. I just ask you to not read it in silence but only out aloud, each evening one part of the book. It will help you getting more confident with your speech."

"Really?" The boy asked, looking at him with large eyes, eyes that nearly begged him to say yes, and he inclined his head at the child.

"Yes." He answered. "Your problems with speaking are not caused by damage to your throat or to your vocal cords. They are fine, but you already knew that, we have already talked about that."

"You … you said … you said it's in … it's in my head." Harry said, averting his eyes.

"Yes I have." The Potions Master answered, placing his fingers beneath the boy's chin and lifting his head so that he could see the child's eyes. "But I also told you that it does not mean that you are stupid. You are a very intelligent child or you would not have survived your relatives' household for ten years. Your mind just is not ready to overtake a yearlong blockade so easily. It takes practice and a lot of work and exercises, just like learning all those spells in your classes. The more practice you have, with simply reading for example, your mind will get used to your voice being utilized and one day you will annoy me with not being able to keep your moth shut for just one single minute."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"I am not sure of my answer, Lucius." Severus said, taking a small sip from the hot tea and leaning back in his armchair.

Harry had understood his words, he was sure of that, because the boy had smiled and he happily had packed the book into his bag. After that they'd had a small lunch during which he had noticed that the child had radiated a new kind of – hope, for the lack of a better word. As if his reassurance, that the child would be able to improve his speech by reading out aloud at a regular basis had given him something he could use as a hold. After that Harry had taken a small nap in his room while he himself had been sitting beside the boy, simply watching him in his sleep – and then they finally had come back to Hogwarts.

"I can understand your reluctance, Severus, but it isn't as if I asked you to hand your son over to a Death Eater meeting." The blond aristocrat said. "Draco will be there as well after all and I surely would not harm your son. Nor mine by harming his friend."

"Do not _misunderstand_ my reluctance, Lucius. I did not imply you would." He said, shaking his head. "But Harry is not a child easy to handle. Most likely he would sit in front of your fire for the entire night without sleeping – until the moment I came to get him. You would have a hard time getting him to eat anything, to speak even, and you would have trouble keeping him from panicking at one point or another. Let us face reality, Lucius, neither of us is a stranger to pain and torture and we both know how easy an even adult man can be broken under torture that goes for a week or two. We both are Death Eaters after all and we both have done the same. But Harry has been tortured by the Dursleys for much longer than that, for years actually, and he is a child only, not an adult man."

"I do understand your concern, Severus, but like you said – we both are no strangers to pain and torture – nor to fear." Lucius inclined his head, calmly, only taking a breath that was slightly deeper than it normally would be. "We both have done the same and we both know how to handle them – and not only to keep them alive. I might not be an expert like you when it comes to abused children, but I do know how to keep a victim of torture calm and reasonable."

"Only if they are still in the situation, Lucius." The Potions Master shook his head. "They react differently the moment they are released and at least physically healed. I do understand that Draco would like having Harry over for a night during the Christmas holidays and I do understand that he will be safe with you, that you won't harm him and that you would do your best to keep him comfortable, but …"

"Dad …!" Came Harry's voice from the entrance door to their quarters, the door nearly banging against the wall behind while being thrown open and for a moment Severus feared what danger might have befallen the child before he realized that it only was excitement that ran over his son's face. "Dad …! Draco … Draco said … may I? He said …"

And then the excited voice stopped from one moment to the other when the child noticed Lucius sitting in one of the armchairs.

"I … I'm … I'm sor-sorry … sir." Harry immediately said, keeping a good distance to them. "Good … good evening … good evening, Mr. Malfoy." He then quickly added.

"Good evening, Harry." Lucius calmly answered before giving a pointed look towards his son. "Draco." He then added, acknowledging his son's presence. Well, Severus knew his old friend enough to know what that pointed look meant – namely that Lucius beforehand had forbidden Draco to tell Harry about his invitation over to Malfoy Manor during the Christmas holidays – at least until he had spoken with him, Severus, about it.

Well, and Draco fidgeting nervously told him enough. He was right about this.

"No harm is done and it is of no consequence, Harry." He said, waving his son over. "Come here, child."

Harry only reluctantly came over to him, unsurely, his eyes darting between him and Lucius and he took a long way around the blond man, even if he knew that he was his friend's father only.

He didn't like the fact that Draco already had told Harry about Lucius' invitation either, would have preferred if he could have spoken to his son about it in privacy, but he took the situation as it was. And as it seemed, Harry was eager – even if he would have suggested that he didn't visit Malfoy Manor so soon, during the Christmas holidays already but later, during the summer holidays. He would have had more time to prepare the boy for such a sleep over then.

"What is it you wanted to ask, Harry?" He then inquired.

Well, the boy's fears of other people, especially adults, was seen in every movement Harry made when taking a wary look at the other wizard before taking a deep breath and concentrating onto him, Severus, and what he wanted to ask.

"Draco … Draco said I could … I could visit him …" He started but then broke off and closed his eyes before taking another deep breath. "Draco said I could … I could visit him during … during the Christmas holidays, sir." He then calmly said.

"And now you wished for my permission." Severus said – not asked, but said, watching his son close. He could see excitement mixed with fear, happiness about having a friend who invited him over mixed with the fear of what could happen during his visit, of being away from him, his father, for an entire night, at a strange place even and with strange people.

"Yes, sir …" The boy said. "That is … if you … I mean … I don't know, sir."

"Generally I am not against a sleep over, Harry, but for several reasons I strongly suggest that we discuss this later when we are in private." He calmly said, fixing his dark eyes with the green ones of the child in front of him.

"Yes, sir." Harry said, again without a "but", again without even _trying_ to argue with him, without even _trying_ to give away any word of contradiction and again he had mixed feelings about it. On one hand he just _once_ would like the child behaving like a normal child and trying to argue with him over something he had said, while on the other hand he was proud of his son behaving so well – while at the same time he knew exactly why the boy behaved so well, namely out of fear only. And he didn't like this knowledge.

"Why do you not take Draco to your room and the two of you prepare for potions tomorrow morning?" He then asked with a smirk, knowing what kind of reaction his suggestion would cause – at least from Draco. And yes, the blond boy groaned in frustration at his words while Harry simply nodded.

"I would like Draco behaving as well as does your son, Severus." Lucius said the moment the two boys were gone and the door to Harry's room had been closed quietly.

"I would like Harry just once behaving like a normal child his age like your son does, Lucius." He couldn't help saying. "Harry never gives away a 'but' or any other word of contradiction, not even a whined 'please' upon a wish of his being denied. But not out of respect for his elders but out of fear."

"I don't doubt that Harry has respect for you." Lucius said with a frown on his face.

"He definitely has, do not take me wrong on this." Severus sighed, taking another sip from his tea before leaning back in his armchair. "And nevertheless – his stoic obedience does not result from his respect but from fear only. And that is not what I wish for. Draco behaves like a normal and healthy eleven year old boy, Lucius, and you should be glad for this."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

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**To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_A discussion between father and son – and a pair of shoes_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	64. the end of the rope

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well … I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings … J. K. Rowling owns them all … I just borrow them a bit …

Uhm … and well … sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts … I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this … I at least promise to try …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before … thank you … and yes … I would be glad to receive more responses … and then I'd like to say – sorry for any mistakes in the story as English is not my language by birth … you however may keep them, the mistakes I mean, all of them …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help … there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"I would like Draco behaving as well as does your son, Severus." Lucius said the moment the two boys were gone and the door to Harry's room had been closed quietly. _

_"I would like Harry just once behaving like a normal child his age like your son does, Lucius." He couldn't help saying. "Harry never gives away a 'but' or any other word of contradiction, not even a whined 'please' upon a wish of his being denied. But not out of respect for his elders but out of fear."_

_"I don't doubt that Harry has respect for you." Lucius said with a frown on his face._

_"He definitely has, do not take me wrong on this." Severus sighed, taking another sip from his tea before leaning back in his armchair. "And nevertheless – his stoic obedience does not result from his respect but from fear alone. And that is not what I wish for. Draco behaves like a normal and healthy eleven year old boy, Lucius, and you should be glad for this."_

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter sixty-four**

**The end of the rope**

"Draco, please show Harry where the cups are – Dudley, please get the plates." He said after having entered the office which he years ago had installed for the students to use, the one that lay behind his own office and which he held his Saturday meetings together with his first years in.

He'd had no troubles in getting Harry here, the boy had not only accepted that he wanted him in this meeting together with the other first years, he even had been eager somewhat – the problem would be getting Harry actually partaking in the conversations they held here instead of just sitting there with them and listening, he knew. But well – for now he simply would try to integrate the child into the group by having him partaking in the routine like taking out the cups and plates or writing the short summary. He would see where they would get from there then.

And he knew – even if he would not get Harry partaking into the conversations today, the boy had achieved a lot over the past few weeks, more than he had hoped for, and even if he was a demanding man generally – he had learned to be grateful for even the little things when it came to Harry.

A few moments later all of them were sitting around the table where Zilly had brought hot chocolate and biscuits, Harry sitting at the sofa closest to his armchair beside Draco and Dursley sitting opposite Harry and beside Blaze, the rest of them scattered around the armchairs.

"How has your week bin?" He then asked, his usual question to open the meeting.

In the beginning he had started the meetings with this question because it was a question that was easy to answer and that got them talking in the first place. Now, that the children had gotten used to their meetings and discussing things together, and even if the subject became a bit more difficult, he still asked this question in the beginning so that the meeting would be opened in an orderly manner without them chitting and chatting in utter chaos.

"It's been great." Draco immediately answered. "I've been at home for the family holiday, and dad and I haven't had any arguments. And I've asked Abraxas to look over us, over dad and me I mean, so that something like mum being dad … well, so that she won't come back and act as dad again, I mean."

Yes, Draco still was not over what had happened, over what Narcissa had done to the boy, and for years, he could hear it in the boy's words – and in his voice that had started confident but then had become unsure at the end. Well, of course Draco was still not over his mother's abuse. She had not only misused Lucius but the child as well and Draco was just on his way to get a better relationship with his father now – what he was glad for. But it also meant that they both had a long way to go still and he knew that being at home with his father on a day like the family day, and getting along with his father on that day – it surely meant a lot to the boy.

"And I heard that you even have made plans for the Christmas holidays already." He couldn't help saying, winking at Harry.

During breakfast this morning they had – like he had promised the boy – talked about his visit to Malfoy Manor for Christmas and he had allowed this stay – after he had made sure that Harry understood – he would be there during the day until after dinner and he would come back as soon as Harry wished him there, never mind what time of the day – or night.

"Yes, we have." Draco said with a timid look at Harry who sat there – with large eyes watching him, Severus, and he gave a short inclining of his head, indicating that – yes, go ahead and tell Draco the good news.

Harry gave away a small smile and then looked over at Draco, opening his mouth. He looked at him, Severus, once more, as if to make sure that it really would be alright telling the blond boy that clearly had become his friend before he looked back at Draco. But then the green eyes wandered to the other children present in the room, his smile faltering a bit until his eyes finally fell on Dursley – what was his undoing as he lowered his gaze to the floor then, his entire body language screaming _'fear'_, not ready to say anything, most probably remembering that he hadn't been allowed to talk at the Dursleys' household, that he had been – _punished_ – in a most cruel way if he talked in their household.

"I … I think, maybe it's better if I leave?" Dursley asked a moment later and got off the sofa he had been sitting at.

"You will do no such thing, Mr. Dursley." He said, noticing Harry flinching at the name Dursley and he took a deep breath. Alright – so this was harder than he had thought. And nevertheless he would not allow Dursley to flee the situation right now – nor Harry. They had talked about this after all. He had talked about this with Dursley and he had talked about this with Harry, and _both_ boys had told him the same – they wanted a relationship. Not a friendship, he wasn't even sure if it would be possible for them to form a friendship, but a relationship as a family.

But for that – they both would have to learn interacting with each other.

"Sit back down, Mr. Dursley." He said, pointing at the sofa the boy had gotten off just a moment ago. "Harry, you have more than one means of communication. I do not care which of them you chose as long as you _do_ chose one to begin with."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry was desperate.

He knew that Professor Snape – that his _father_ – demanded an answer and he even knew the reason as to why he did, he wasn't stupid after all. But at the same time he also knew that he simply couldn't do anything in front of Dudley.

Of course he knew that Dudley – somehow at least – had changed and he also knew that uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia were in Azkaban. But what if … what if this new Dudley would revert to the old Dudley? What if Dudley would go back to beating him like he had done before? What if uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia would come free and Dudley would tell them? What if …

"Breathe, Harry." He heard his father saying and he could feel the Professor's hand resting on his shoulder. "Just take a deep breath and calm down, Harry. I know that it is hard for you to communicate in any means while your cousin is present, but if you ever wish to overcome your past, then you will have to start somewhere and here, in this office, we are in privacy. Only your house is here and only your class is here. Here you can be yourself. No one will judge you here, I promise."

Closing his eyes he did as his father had told and took a deep breath.

"Good." He heard his father saying, the man's deep and velvet voice calming his strained nerves as it always did lately. "Nothing will happen to you here, you are safe here. Dudley won't harm you and your relatives are in prison. You are allowed to speak – or to take any other means of communication if you feel unable to voice your thoughts."

Yes, he _knew_ that he was allowed. The Professor had told him often enough after all and he _knew_ it by now – but it didn't feel like it, _he_ didn't feel as if he really could and especially not now. How was he to say just one sentence in Dudley's presence? Even if his father was right and … alone if he stuttered now and Dudley heard – he would make fun of him and he surely would laugh at him or he would smirk at him, showing him that he knew what had caused it –_who_ had caused it. Showing him that he knew that it was because he wasn't allowed, showing him that he knew that uncle Vernon had taught him this, showing him that …

"Dad …" He whispered, desperately, not knowing what to do, not knowing … a moment later he felt his father's hand gripping his upper arms and another moment later he felt himself being pulled from the sofa and into the man's lap. For a third moment he thought of fighting against the tight grip, against being pulled close by the Professor, fearing what the rest of his class would think of him, but then he gave in to the comfort that was offered and he leaned into the man's arms.

Knowing that the child definitely had reached the end of his rope if he used the term _'dad'_ he drew his son closer and started running calming circles over the child's back.

"Who else has celebrated the family day?" He simply asked, addressing all of his first years.

Of course he could explain to Draco that he had allowed Harry this stay at Malfoy Manor, but he knew that Harry would have to learn talking in not only the presence of others but in the presence of Dursley as well if he ever was to really form the relationship with his cousin like he wished to. He simply would stray from the subject for now to try later and he would see where they went from there.

Theodore, Gregory and Vincent lifted their hands as well as Pansy, Daphne and Millicent. Draco just looked startled and miserable at Harry – aside from throwing angry gazes at Dursley – and Harry himself didn't acknowledge his question at all even if he had celebrated this day together with him, Severus. He didn't blame the boy though, knowing that the child simply was too upset right now to answer any question.

"We've celebrated it for the first time, after Professor Flitwick had mentioned it a few weeks ago." Pansy said, her gaze going unsurely to the others, most probably fearing that they would laugh at her because she never before had celebrated a holiday that normally was held high within pureblood families.

"You did enjoy it, I hope?" Severus asked, his eyebrow lifted at the girl. Miss Parkinson really should know by now that his Slytherins would _not_ laugh at her – and that he surely would _not_ allow them doing so to begin with.

"Yes, but I think that mum didn't know what to do exactly." The girl nearly giggled at the memory. "It was a bit fun too, and dad got a bit unnerved after a while."

"Your maternal grandfather has been a muggle, if I remember correctly, wasn't he?"

"Yes." Pansy answered, again unsurely looking around and again he knew why – if her grandfather had been a muggle, then she herself was not an absolute pureblood.

"Then it is understandable, Pansy, that your mother did not celebrate the family holiday before." He simply answered. "If your grandmother would have been the muggle part, then your grandfather surely would have taught her wizarding standards and tradition but seeing that it had been your grandfather – rarely a witch is teaching her husband what it meant to be a wizard and most likely any traditions only were reinstalled into the family with your mother being born, but not all of them. I think it a remarkable feat that your mother managed preparing the feast for you this year and I am glad that you enjoyed it. Remember it and prepare the same for your own children one day."

"I will." The girl smiled happily and he inclined his head.

"My little brother thought that he would get presents." Millicent said, nearly chuckling. "And then he threw a fit because he didn't get some."

"Your little brother is four, isn't he?" Severus asked, knowing that it was important to show his Slytherins that he already knew – whatever there was to know. Actually that was the reason as to why he always gathered as much information about his students as he possibly could, about their families about their likes and dislikes, about their upbringing, about simply everything. Because he knew that it was important, because he knew that they needed this knowledge – he, Snape, their head of house, he was there for them where no one else was. They needed the knowledge that he was not only their teacher, that he wasn't even only their head of house like it was usual nowadays but that he was their head of house in the true sense of the meaning. Here at Hogwarts he was their family.

Something Minerva, Filius or Pomona never had understood. But well, maybe it simply wasn't necessary with the children in their houses like it was with his. On the other hand – if he thought at the Weasley twins – no, they would need this knowledge as well as his own students. They all were children and they all needed the knowledge that they were cared for. And just because his Slytherins might need this particular knowledge more than the others because of their home lives that often lacked anything any child needed in the first place – it didn't mean that the others didn't need the same.

At the same time however he knew that he simply couldn't be there for all of them. They had their own heads of houses and he couldn't care for all the children here at Hogwarts. He already overstepped his boundaries in visiting the Gryffindor common room for an hour on Wednesday evenings as it was and he could be glad that Lupin never had complained about him interfering into his house.

But he could see that it did wonders, and not only to the Weasley twins who often came over to him then but at Longbottom as well, the boy only twice having made his way over to the armchair he had been sitting in and only after the twins had made a first move. The first time had been the boy asking a simple question: what would he do with a student that was capable understanding the basic rules of potions but too unsure actually brewing one. And the second time had been the boy simply thanking him. He hadn't told him the reason of his gratefulness, but he had known nevertheless, had known that it had been a letter Augusta Longbottom had sent her grandson – after he'd had a talk with her.

"Yes, he went four two months ago." Millicent answered, getting him out of his musings.

"Then it surely is not to wonder that he – most probably – mistook the holiday for Christmas, Millicent." He said, trying to stay serious. "He simply noticed the excitement over a holiday in the house and seeing that he is too young to understand the difference of each holiday he automatically associated the day with presents. It is a perfectly normal reaction."

"I know, but mum got angry though." Millicent laughed. "And in the end she gave him a picture book that was meant for Christmas – teaching him that next year for the family holiday he'll get a present again."

Well, this time he couldn't help smiling at his student. Yes, Millicent surely would chose a career working with children, the girl was quite capable with them and she was ready to think and act reasonable when it came to children. If he only were as reasonable when it came to potions, he couldn't help thinking.

"It's been great, feeling all the old magic in the room." Theodore quietly said. "It's been calming and not even dad was angry after that. He's always so angry, but he wasn't after that."

"That would have been your uncle then, I guess." Severus answered just as quietly. "He has been a very calm man, Arsenius Nott. He always has been able to get people calm and reasonable and to bring forth the best in them."

"I wished it were always like that." Theodore said, looking over at him for a moment.

"Your father and your uncle has been very different people even if brothers." Severus sighed, understanding the boy's wish but being unable to do anything to make the situation better. "And your uncle definitely died too young. I do not know if he would have had any more influence over your father if he had lived longer, but your father definitely had been more tolerable while your uncle had been alive."

"How did he die anyway?" Theodore asked and the Potions Master took a deep breath.

"I cannot answer you this question, Theodore, as no one knows it." He then said, his dark eyes on the boy. "The rumours about Arsenius' death are as wide reaching and some even as far fetched as are the rumours about Merlin himself. The only thing we know is that he definitely has been killed in the middle of muggle London in the night between April 1st and April 2nd 1979 – but no one knows for sure by whom or what reason for. Neither does anyone know what he had done in muggle London during that particular night."

"Dad never told me that." Theodore whispered.

"Your father, as harsh as he is and as different than Arsenius as he always has been, loved his brother very much, Theodore, and your uncle's death surely has unsettled him greatly back then. I am not even sure if Arsenius' death has not added to his anger that had become uncontrolled after that. I know that your father does definitely love you, but he is unable showing it towards you, unable allowing himself to love you even because he fears what might happen if he does, fears that you too could be taken from him if he allows himself to love you. I know that it is no excuse, child, but it simply is that way and without outward help in form of a therapy your father starts the only thing I can do is keeping you safe here at Hogwarts as often as possible like I do with the other children in this house."

"I know." The boy whispered, they had discussed it already after all, that he would keep the boy at Hogwarts as often as possible during the holidays. They also had discussed that he wouldn't be able doing so during the family holiday as this holiday was one when a family was meant to be together and any parents could demand their child at home from school during that day – what Nott Senior surely would have done if he had tried to keep Theodore at Hogwarts.

"It's startling that so few students leave Hogwarts during that day." Draco said, as if he had known the line of his, Severus', thoughts. "And most of them who celebrate this day together with their families are we Slytherins."

"You are definitely right, Draco, but the wizarding world does change like does the muggle world and we are leaving behind the old times and entering a modern world in which the witches and wizards do not believe in old traditions anymore. Here the wizarding world does not stray from the muggle world so much."

"I … I'll always … cele- … I'll always cele-celebrate … celebrate this … this holiday." Came Harry's voice from somewhere between the folds of his robe and smiling Severus looked down at the child he still held in his arms.

"I am glad to hear that, Harry." He calmly said, turning the boy on his lap without releasing him until he leaned with his back at his chest, so that he could face the other children in the room. "I would wonder if you decided otherwise after the family holiday you have experienced this year."

"Why? What happened?" Dursley asked and for a moment he couldn't help getting angry at the question, not sure if the idiot boy had asked it to silence Harry again. But then reason took over and he knew that most probably – no, Dursley had asked this question simply because he wanted to partake in the conversation with his cousin, with Harry. The boy had started changing weeks ago after all and it was unfair if he now accused the boy of deliberately making Harry miserable. Dudley Dursley only had started showing interest not only in the wizarding world but in his cousin as well.

Looking down and squeezing Harry's arm reassuringly he noticed the boy looking up at him, startled and questioningly, and calmly he nodded.

"Mum … mum's been … been there." Harry quietly whispered, not looking at his cousin but his own hands that had sneaked around his, Severus', and he ran his thumb over the soft skin of his son's hand to tell him that yes, it was alright and that yes, he had done well, answering his cousin's question verbally."

He could see Dursley opening his mouth at the same time as Draco and he threw a short warning gaze at his godson, silently telling him that he should leave this moment to the two boys that had so much to learn and catch up.

"You're kidding!" Dursley gasped, his eyes large at his cousin. "She's been really there? I thought one only could feel their magic."

The boy in his arms shook his head and he could feel the small hand that was holding his own increasing the pressure.

"I … I've … I've seen … I've seen her." The child then answered. "And … and I've … I've talked …" Again the pressure on his hand increased and for a moment he wondered how this small and skinny child could have such a tight grip at his hand that it nearly hurt by now. He also knew that the boy had closed his eyes for a moment when he took a deep breath, a simple but effective exercise he had been training with the boy throughout the past weeks, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to calm himself. It nearly always worked.

"I've talked … I've talked to her." Harry then said and he smiled.

"Merlin!" Dursley gasped out, his eyes widening comically and he could feel Harry in his arms shifting at the outburst. Nevertheless he wasn't ready to interfere yet, even if the idiot boy had startled Harry.

"You … you've … you've said …" Again the pressure at his hand increased and again there was a pause in which the Potions Master was sure that Harry had closed his eyes for a moment. "You've said an … you've said an 'm-word' …!"

"I've done so a lot lately." Dursley quietly said, looking at Harry sheepishly, but he smiled, and for the first time since he was at Hogwarts the boy really smiled, a smile that showed – he was happy. But then his smile vanished and for a moment his eyes became distant before he looked back at Harry. "I'm sorry that I've always believed the bullshit dad told!" He then simply said.

Harry didn't answer to that, just shrugged one shoulder as if to say – he didn't know, or he didn't care, or he wasn't ready to answer yet – whatever, but the Potions Master could feel Harry in his arms relaxing, the pressure around his hand easing up at least a bit and considering the situation that right now seemed to be a truce of some kind – he forced himself to keep from asking what exactly an 'm-word' was, giving a short headshake at Draco who was about to – most likely – ask just this.

Now was not the time for that question.

"You wished to tell Draco something." He then said, not sure if Harry still would be ready doing so after the strain of the past few minutes. And he knew that it had been hard for the boy, the death grip he'd had on his hand had been proof enough of that and he was sure that he would bear a bruise from it by tomorrow – yet, he didn't mind. It had been worth, because Harry had spoken not even in front of his cousin but to his cousin even.

"'m tired." The boy whispered, turning within his arms, and even if he knew that the child really would be tired by now – he also knew that this turning away from the others had nothing to do with it but that it simply was a hiding away. And he allowed it, because the boy had already done more than he had been expecting for today.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The day so far had passed on as had any other day.

He had awoken before dawn as was his norm, knowing that – as it was weekend – Harry only would prepare breakfast if he woke before him, and he had poured himself a mug of coffee, sitting into his favourite armchair and pondering over his life and the turns it had taken since Harry had come to live with him.

It was Saturday, the 16th of November and therefore Harry lived with him since more than ten weeks now as he had moved in with him at September, 4th. And still the child did not only wake up before dawn but still felt the need to work for his stay.

Of course he had given the boy small daily duties like keeping his own room clean, laying the table for dinner and getting the sleeping berries he needed for the child's nutrient potion from the garden, that way at least ensuring that the boy got outside once a day and he explicitly had told him to not only get the berries but to take a small walk in the garden as well, or to sit down at one of the benches, to simply enjoy the fresh air and the bright daylight to his leisure. Often he even accompanied him sitting beneath the weeping willow he once had planted for Lily and watching the boy getting the handful of berries.

But still the boy thought that it wasn't enough he was doing and still he often found the boy doing things he didn't like him doing – like cleaning the kitchen or the bathroom, cleaning the stony floors in their quarters or cooking dinner if he was at home later than normally.

During breakfast he had talked with the boy about his visit at Malfoy Manor and then he had taken Harry with him to the Saturday meeting. And again, like so often during the past weeks, Harry had surprised him by not only using his voice in front of the entire class – even if after a few starting troubles – but by speaking with his cousin directly.

The child hadn't been able to tell Draco about his visit at Christmas after that and he actually had fallen asleep on his lap in the midst of the meeting, but he hadn't cared about that. He simply had brought the boy home after and Harry right now was still sleeping.

He had been planning on taking Harry to an oculist this afternoon to have his eyes checked, but he doubted that the boy would be able handling an outing today after a rather stressful morning – the boy still acted like a spooked horse whenever they left the castle after all. He would take a walk through the garden with his son today and after that he would take him to his laboratory. They simply would visit wizarding London and the oculist next weekend.

The boy leaving his room and standing in the doorway – like always – got him out of his thoughts and he waved the child over, getting off the armchair himself.

"Lunch is ready, Harry." He said, leading the boy into the kitchen. "I would have dropped a bucked of cold water over your head if you had not awoken soon."

Startling green eyes looked up at him for a moment before the boy relaxed again and he knew – still the boy feared he really could do such things, still a joke he made was taken seriously because it wasn't so absurd in the boy's eyes, because he'd had so much worse with his relatives.

"You do not seem to believe me." He said, lifting his eyebrow at the boy who again looked at him with large eyes for a moment before quickly shaking his head.

"You … you wouldn't do that." He then said and the Potions Master was glad to notice that the boy's speech was back to normal after it had worsened this morning.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his eyebrow raising even higher.

Again the boy's eyes widened for a moment before he quickly nodded his head with a "yes, sir".

"Of course I wouldn't." He said, running his hand through the boy's hair, satisfied that at least he didn't flinch anymore upon being touched by him – at least not always.

Smiling Harry sat down at the table, knowing that he had made his father happy.

For a moment he had been startled and he nearly had said that yes, he believed him, but then he quickly had thought about it and he had known – the Professor simply had tested him, like he so often did. And so he had shaken his head, had said that surely he wouldn't do that, and he had nodded when the Professor had asked if he was sure about it.

A scary moment had been when his father had reached out to him to run his hand through is hair. He nearly had flinched then, like always if he didn't concentrate onto the dark eyes that were so harsh and so soft at the same time, so pensive and attentive at the same time. Or so worrying and reassuring at the same time. He really didn't know how he could describe them – but it always helped.

But he had managed, as he did more and more often lately and so he had made his father happy, and he knew it. Of course he knew that his father didn't want him telling him what he thought the man wanted hearing from him, but he simply knew – if he had said the truth, that he believed he could do it, then the Professor would have been very sad – and maybe even angry. And he didn't want that.

The past few weeks had been the best of his life and he didn't want to lose that again. And so he simply always tried to pass those small tests. And he thought that he managed fairly well.

Of course he enjoyed the moments when they were sitting together at the sofa, reading, and Professor Snape having his arm wrapped around his, Harry's, shoulders, or the moments when the man simply embraced him whenever he needed it – however he knew that he needed it, he didn't know that. But he enjoyed it, it was like being safe after so many years of pain and fear. But he always still feared this physical contact. Feared what could happen out of it, feared that maybe one day this physical contact could start hurting.

He never would tell the Professor though, knowing that the man surely wouldn't like that, but he was scared by the touch even if he enjoyed it at the same time. It really was confusing. How could he enjoy something that he feared so much at the same time? How was that even possible? Never before had he enjoyed the things he had feared! Uncle Vernon beating him or being locked in his cupboard with nothing to eat or aunt Petunia screaming at him how freakish and ungrateful and stupid and weak he was, and all the other things. He always had feared them and he never had enjoyed them.

And now he feared the Professor touching him but enjoyed them at the same time! He didn't understand it!

But he never would tell that to the man! Never!

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Though no more villagers … though no more villagers came to seek help at the wizard's cottage … at the wizard's cottage for the rest of the week, the pot kept him informed … informed of their many ills. Within a few days … within a few days it was not only braying and groaning … braying and groaning and slopping and hopping and sprouting warts, it was also … it was also choking and retching, crying like a baby, whining like a dog, and spewing … and spewing out bad cheese and sour milk and a plague … and a plague of hungry slugs."

Yes, he had Harry reading again, like he had asked of him the evening before and again he noticed that the boy's speech was better than if he had to concentrate onto what he wanted to say. Barely stuttering at all but only repeating parts of what he already had read as if he had to make sure that he wouldn't leave out some words. Well, he would continue to have the child reading and he would see where it would lead them – like it was with so many things when it came to his son.

It was as if the future were a thing that not only was not written yet, but that was so unpredictable like a dangerous potion simmering in a cauldron – it could go well or it could go terribly wrong – or it could be that nothing changed at all.

"The wizard could not … the wizard could not sleep or eat with the pot beside him, but the pot refused … but the pot refused to leave, and he could not … and he could not silence it or force it to be still. At last the wizard … at least the wizard could bear it no more.

'Bring me all your problems … all your problems, all your troubles, and your woes!' he screamed, fleeing into the night, with the pot hopping behind him … with the pot hopping behind him along the road into the village. 'Come! Let me cure you, mend you, and comfort you! I have my father's … I have my father's cooking pot, and I shall make you well!' That was really … that was really nice of him." Harry said, looking up from the book and over at him. "He really changed, didn't he?"

"Go on and finish the story if you wish knowing that." He answered, pulling the boy into his arms so that he rested with his back against his chest. He noticed the small body tensing up for a moment before the child relaxed against him, like always and he knew – as much as Harry enjoyed any physical touch, as much as the child soaked up each and every single physical comfort, he still feared it – but never dared to admit it, most likely because he feared him, Severus, getting angry and the only thing he could do was giving his son as much of that comfort as possible until he one day might have gotten used to it, until he one day maybe might feel that he really was safe, without fear.

"And with the foul pot … and with the foul pot still bounding along behind him, he ran up the street, casting spells in every direction." The boy continued reading. "In one house … in one house the little girl's warts vanished as she slept, the lost donkey was summoned from a distant briar patch … from a distant briar patch and set down softly in its stable, the sick baby was doused in dittany and woke, well and rosy. At every house of sickness and sorrow … of sickness and sorrow the wizard did his best, and gradually the cooking pot beside him stopped groaning and retching, and became quiet, shiny, and clean … and became quiet, shiny and clean.

'Well, pot?' asked the trembling wizard as the sun began to rise.

The pot burped out the single slipper … the single slipper he had thrown into it, and permitted him to fit it onto the brass foot. Together, they set off back to the wizard's house … back to the wizard's house, the pot's footstep muffled at last. But from that day forward … from that day forward, the wizard helped the villagers, like his father before him, lest the pot cast off its slipper, and begin to hop once more … and begin to hop once more. He really … he really has changed!" The boy called out in excitement, most likely more in excitement over having read an entire fairy tale aloud than in excitement over the story itself. "And it's … and it's a good end … a good end too!"

"So you liked the story?" He asked, unable to conceal his own smile.

"Hm-m." The boy made and he could feel the small body relaxing back against his chest even deeper, as if he tried to sneak into the folds of his shirt, again soaking up the physical comfort and warmth, and he lifted his hand to the child's face, laid onto the boy's forehead and ran his thumb over the smooth skin.

Such a small creature, and so much worry over it. He mused. Such a soft creature and so much it had to bear. How could anyone hurt such a small and soft child like this one? How could anyone hurt any child like this one had been hurt? He didn't know. And neither did he know how to undo all that had been done to that child that right now relaxed even more into his chest, about to fall asleep on him once more.

How was it that this particular child fell asleep on him so often and so easily, while he wasn't able to fall asleep easily in his own bed? He didn't have an answer to this question either. He didn't have an answer to so many questions concerning this particular child, his son.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

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**To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_A __visit at wizarding London – and a pair of shoes (what should have come up in this chapter, but seeing that some people didn't know the tale about 'the wizard and the hoping pot', I thought I'd finish it here, even if I did not intend doing so last week _…_)_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	65. Diagon Alley again

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well … I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings … J. K. Rowling owns them all … I just borrow them a bit …

Uhm … and well … sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts … I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this … I at least promise to try …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before … thank you … and yes … I would be glad to receive more responses … and then I'd like to say – sorry for any mistakes in the story as English is not my language by birth … you however may keep them, the mistakes I mean, all of them …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help … there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_Such a small creature, and so much worry over it. He mused. Such a soft creature and so much it had to bear. How could anyone hurt such a small and soft child like this one? How could anyone hurt any child like this one had been hurt? He didn't know. And neither did he know how to undo all that had been done to that child that right now relaxed even more into his chest, about to fall asleep on him once more. _

_How was it that this particular child fell asleep on him so often and so easily, while he wasn't able to fall asleep easily in his own bed? He didn't have an answer to this question either. He didn't have an answer to so many questions concerning this particular child, his son. _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter sixty-five**

**Diagon Alley again**

"Harry." The Potions Master said with nearly a sigh, his eyebrow lifted at his son. "You do not have to draw it out any longer. I do know that you would like staying here, but we will go to London and we will do so today – if you get ready anytime soon, that is."

With a long and suffering sigh the boy bent down to put on his shoes. Harry already had drawn out breakfast as much as possible, eating as slowly as even humanly possible, and then he had taken his time getting dressed at all – and now he was trying to play for time with putting on his shoes and his cloak just so to avoid the trip to wizarding London.

On one hand the Potions Master was glad that finally the boy showed a reaction any child would show, trying to play for time to avoid something that was unpleasant – and this trip to London definitely _was_ unpleasant for Harry, he knew that. But on the other hand – it still was not what he actually was waiting for, namely the boy openly asking if they really had to go.

But it was important.

It was important that the boy one day learned to openly state his opinion or to give contradiction even. He would have to learn to say 'no' or he always would do what people told him or asked of him for his entire life without ever doing what he himself wanted doing. If he wanted Harry being an independent and free man one day, then he would have to teach him how to say 'no' and how to state his own opinion.

And it was important that they had this visit to London today too.

He was a Potions Master, and so he of course had been through a training as a healer. But he was no specialist when it came to the eyes, he was no oculist. And the boy's eye-sight simply was unacceptable. He more than once already had noticed the boy searching for a copy of the needed potions formula in his book because he hadn't been able reading the instructions on the board and even then he had to squint his eyes to read it.

Of course he knew that the boy just was scared leaving the safety of the castle, and to an unknown area no less. They were not simply going to the green houses or to Hagrid's hut, not even simply to Prince Manor where the child definitely felt at home – they were going to London, to an unknown area and Harry feared what could happen there, feared whom they could meet there and what people could do to him there, maybe even feared he, Severus, could leave him there even.

Well, yes – of course the boy had been to London once, to Diagon Alley, but this was – for this particular child at least, as the boy had tried forgetting about it – a long time ago and it had not been his best day either.

Bending down to tie the laces when Harry finally had his shoes on his feet he frowned upon the wince when he pulled the laces close and feeling for the boy's toes his frown at his son deepened.

"Your shoes are getting too small." He said. "I guess we will have to buy new ones on our trip today."

"But dad …" The boy immediately said and he lifted an eyebrow at his son. Was this what he had waited for? A word of contradiction finally? "Can't … can't you just en-enlarge them?"

With a sigh Severus looked at the child. No – it was not a word of contradiction, not really. It simply was the brat not wanting him to spend any more money on him, not wanting to be a burden.

"You are a growing boy, Harry." He answered. "And your shoes won't grow with you."

"I … I'm sorry." Came the quiet reply while Harry averted his gaze.

"There is no reason to be, Mr. Snape." The Potions Master shook his head, finishing tying the lazes. "For now I will enlarge them a bit, but it won't be a long term solution. We will have to buy new shoes and so I suggest we do so today while we are in London anyway. And by the way – I actually am glad that you are growing finally. It is a good sign and so I gladly will buy new shoes for you."

There was a shy smile and the boy looking up at him sheepishly through his lowered eyelashes – an expression he more and more was wearing on his face and that nearly always was the Potions Master's undoing. Merlin! He would have to be careful or in a few years the blasted brat would be able curling him around his fingers with this particular gaze!

'_He already is doing just this, my dear Severus!'_ The small voice that – yet again – lingered in the back of his mind, annoyingly, whispered and he couldn't help agreeing. But Merlin! The boy had had it difficult and hard enough in his short life already, what did it matter if he went soft on him now? A bit at least? It wasn't that he spoiled the child! He knew that this wouldn't be a solution after all, he knew what this would do to the child in the long run. He just wasn't as harsh with him as he was with the other children, that was all.

"Your cloak, Harry." He said, pointing at the cloak the boy had brought out from his room. "It is nearing the end of November and it is cold outside."

"Know." The boy said, shivering. The child simply had no meat on his bones to keep him warm and he easily froze. He knew that Harry didn't like jackets or the travelling cloak, seeing that he never had a jacket before and so he now was uncomfortable while wearing one now.

"Can … can we … can we go to … to Simon's sweet … sweet shop?" The boy asked, his green eyes large at him, Snape, and for a moment he barely managed keeping himself from smiling. "Draco and Theodore talked … talked about it and … well … I thought … maybe …"

"Maybe?" Severus asked, lifting his eyebrow at his son while he inwardly nearly jumped with relief and joy. The child had asked for something for himself for the first time ever! Had asked for something _he_ wanted.

"I … never mind, sir … I just thought." The child immediately retreated, looking down at the carpet beneath his feet, his right foot dragging the carpet unsurely and the Potions Master sighed. Of course the boy would retreat. It was the first time he had asked for something and he, stupid Snape, he had lifted his eyebrow at the child and had looked at him so seriously!

"Let me see if I got this correct, Harry." He said while simply taking the cloak – which the boy still had not taken from the backrest of the sofa – and put it where it belonged to, over the child's shoulders. "Draco and Theodore have spoken about that blasted sweet shop and now you would like visiting it yourself." He said matter of factly.

The boy in front of him gave a barely visible nod away, a clear sign of _how_ desperately he would like visiting this particular shop as he otherwise would rather quickly shake his head and postpone his own interests.

"Well, in this case we will have to visit this shop as well." He said, smirking at the boy's head that shot up with large and hopeful eyes. "_After_ – we have been at the oculist and after we have visited Gladrag for a pair of new shoes. It won't do the other children talking about something and you not being able partaking in the conversation because of lack of knowledge after all."

Well, the smile he got from the brat was worth the trouble of being seen in a sweet shop he right here and then decided and placing his hand on the boy's shoulder he led him out of their quarters, along the corridors and staircases and then outside to the grounds and towards the gates from where he could apparate them to Wizarding London and Diagon Alley.

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"Would you like visiting Simon's sweet shop now, Harry?" He calmly asked but Harry immediately shook his head, the pale face clearly strained, exhausted and – scared.

Well, the visit at the oculist had been a disaster, while the visit at Gladrag's had been a _near_ disaster, again the shop owner's son being the one who had prevented the situation going out of hands completely. At least he was sure that Harry wouldn't wish to visit an oculist anytime soon.

**Flashback**

_"Good morning." He said upon entering the spacious medical office of the oculist__, leading Harry in with his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I have an appointment with my son here."_

_"Your name?" The young woman behind the counter asked in a bored voice, her eyes looking at him just as bored._

_"Snape." He answered, barely keeping a sneer from his face at the – enthusiasm – the woman displayed._

_"You've had an appointment last week, Mr. Snape." The blasted woman said accusingly._

_"I have floo called last week to cancel the appointment and have arranged a visit for today." He patiently said. "Our appointment is at nine."_

_"Yes, yes." The idiot woman said. "Just go to room two, healer Anson will be there soon."_

_Giving away a curt nod while gritting his teeth so that he wouldn't say something inappropriate in front of Harry he turned his son on his shoulders and led him into the room, seated him onto one of the chairs that stood by a broad glass front opposite a wall with different letters and signs drawn onto it in a funny way and in different colors and font seizes. He watched the boy fidgeting nervously, trying to sit still while his hands automatically went towards the seam of his cloak every now and then, the boy's short feet that hung in the air swinging back and forth every now and then before he caught himself in his actions and tried keeping them still while his gaze went through the room – not curiously but rather scared. _

_Just a few moments later a man in his early seventies maybe entered the room and he could feel the boy beside him stiffening, he didn't even have to look at the boy._

_"Professor Snape." The man greeted him in a booming voice, reaching out his hand to greet him and he took it. "It's been a while, I take it your reading glasses are still sufficient?"_

_"Of course!" The Potions Master nearly choked out while looking down at Harry and giving him a warning look. Blasted man._

_"Ah, I see, Professor, you still do not wear them, I should have a word with Poppy again, really. And you are Harry?" _

_Well, Harry quickly nodded __his head at the oculist with large eyes, most likely not even having registered the blasted man's comment about his reading glasses and with a huff he thought that the boy's questions would come later. _

_"Ah, well, Harry – maybe you can remind your father of his reading glasses for me as I seem to fail in getting him wearing them. At least you do wear your glasses, but I already can see that they do not really fit your eyes. When was the last time you had your eyes checked?"_

_Harry immediately looked up at him__, Severus, for help and as much as he would like having the boy speaking for himself, he knew that now was not the time for that. _

_"He never has been to an oculist." He therefore simply said. "Harry has been living with his aunt and uncle until recently and they – did not provide him with what he needed."_

_He was sure that Anson knew what he meant, the man surely had read all the articles in the Daily Prophet a few weeks ago and therefore knew about the Dursleys. Not to mention that he surely had heard the slight hesitation in his words and therefore knew that he originally had wanted saying something else – that simply would have been inappropriate in Harry's presence. And __the blasted man surely could sense the fear the boy was radiating as well as he could and he only could hope that he would get this over with as quickly as possible._

_"Alright – just let us start from the beginning then." Anson smiled. "Would you take your glasses off please, Harry?" He then said. _

_And the boy did, took off his glasses and held them in his hands, his fingers playing with them nervously._

_"Good, now – can you read me the letters over there on the wall, Harry? The first line?" The man then asked, but immediately the boy looked over at him, Severus, for help._

_"You do not have to look at me, Harry." He said. "I can read them." He said with a smirk directed at the blasted oculist who gave a booming laugh at his comment. A moment later he however got serious again. "There is nothing to be afraid of, Harry. Just look at the signs and if you feel unable saying them, then you can sign them – or write them down. You have enough options for communication, child."_

_Well, a moment later he had the boy shaking his head and turning towards him, leaning __over the small gap between the two chairs, and leaning at his chest and hiding his face in the folds of his robes. With a sigh he ran his arm over his son's back and turned towards the oculist, silently shaking his head. Harry simply wouldn't be able doing as was expected of him. _

_"Ah, never mind, Harry." Anson said, sounding quite humorous while he rather looked sad and worried. "I would have cast a diagnostic spell anyway. You haven't been here yet and I always cast the spell on newcomers. I have to make sure they acknowledge m__e doing magic after all or they would say – hey, this guy just had me reading a few letters, numbers and signs, even I could have done this. Now – can you turn around from your hiding spot and look at me for a moment?"_

_But the headshake both men got was telling enough – Harry did not plan on leaving his hiding spot for just a moment. _

_"Come now, Harry." Severus quietly said while taking the boy on his shoulders and turning him. Just to have his son becoming as rigid as a board and without further ado he simply grabbed the boy beneath his armpits and lifted him off the chair he had been sitting in, sat him onto his lap so that he rested with his back against his, Severus', chest. _

_Anson too didn't do any more games and quickly cast the spell and a moment later the Potions Master allowed the boy to turn on his lap, sobbing into his chest and smearing snot and tears onto the black fabric of his tailcoat. _

_"I will be back in a moment." Anson said, taking the scroll with the diagnostic and leaving the room – most likely to give them some privacy as he was sure that the man did not have to look up the meaning of the diagnostic. _

_"Harry?" He asked when the door closed behind the oculist – but again he only got a headshake._

_"Harry, please." He tried again, but again he just got a headshake, a more violent one this time. _

_"I know that you are scared, Harry, but I would like knowing the reason." He tried to explain. "I only then can help you if I know what the problem is. You have had met other persons so far without showing such violent signs of fear, child, and I would like to know what exactly the problem is."_

_Well, he was sure that he would get another headshake, but a moment later the boy peered through a small gap, trying to overlook the room._

_"Healer Anson has left the room." He reassured and only then the boy sat up on his lap, still hiccupping, still unsurely looking around as if he had to make sure with his own eyes that they were alone. _

_"He looks like Mr. … like my uncle's boss." The boy signed, his green eyes still large and with a sigh Severus pulled a handkerchief out of his robe, ran it over the tear stained face of the boy. Of course Harry would be scared beyond reason upon seeing his uncle's boss – even if he surely had understood that Anson __was not Grunnings but a wizard. But there simply was a difference between knowledge and recognition of the knowledge and he knew that. _

_"Is it only bad memory that has you frightened, or do you actually fear he might tell your uncle that you have been here?" He asked. __Again, he of course knew that Vernon Dursley was in Azkaban and Harry knew that as well, but again, between knowledge and realization was a difference. _

_There was no answer except of the boy shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head and he again could understand that Harry didn't even know the answer for himself. A moment later the door opened and Anson came back in._

_Harry immediately tried to turn in his lap, but this time the Potions Master simply turned the boy until he had him sitting with his back leaning against his chest._

_"No, Harry." He seriously said, setting the boy's glasses onto his nose. "Not this time. I want you to have a close look at healer Anson and I want you to look for all the small differences between Grunnings and healer Anson. And there are quite a few, Harry, as small as they are, I have to admit that."_

_"I am sure, Professor Snape, that with those here young Harry would be able seeing better than with the ones he is wearing right now." Anson said, waving his wand and a moment later a pair of glasses floated through the air and towards him – something he was glad for as the boy only would have been startled if the man had come over to them to give him the glasses._

_Well, seeing that the child right now seemed unable moving at all, Severus simply took the old glasses and placed the new ones over the boy's nose. _

_A moment later he heard a gasp from his son, the boy actually turning towards him, Snape, and looking into his face with eyes as large as saucers. _

_"I see that you seem to recognize me finally." He couldn't help drawling with a smirk on his face. But well, it did the trick and the boy actually smiled for a short moment. "Good, then maybe now you will be able recognizing the small differences between Grunnings and healer Anson." _

_The boy shyly looked back at the oculist and for a few moments nothing happened while the old wizard allowed the inspection, but then he could feel Harry relaxing bit by bit until the boy took a deep breath and leaned back at his chest fully. _

_"Good." He said, running his hand over the boy's forehead and feeling the tiredness lingering there. "Then maybe we can concentrate onto the changes of the glasses?"_

_The boy quickly shook his head, most likely indicating that he was quite satisfied with them – like he was with everything he got, and he sighed, conjuring a mirror on the small table that stood to their right._

_"Alright, then I will change the color to pink." He smirked, watching the boy's face screwing up in disgust but there was no contradiction. "Or maybe yellow? Blue? Red? Oh, for Merlin's sake, we will take green - or maybe black?"_

_Well, the small and satisfied smile that crossed the boy's face when he saw the black frame told him enough and he left the color. _

_"Maybe you would like trying a bit bigger glasses?" He suggested, changing them into overly large glasses. "Or a bit smaller? Again smaller? Still smaller? You can't be serious! Maybe round? Oval? Surely not triangular! Oval then? Maybe a bit more square-shaped?"_

**End flashback**

Well, the startled look on Harry's face had told him enough and he had known that – no, Harry would not voice – or sign – any changes he would like of the glasses Anson had just brought in, the boy being too happy to have glasses he could see correctly with at all and so he simply was satisfied already with them, and the boy being too shy to wish for any changes for himself to begin with.

So he simply had started asking questions and forming the glasses into different colors and shapes, starting with ridiculous colors and shapes while watching the boy's face either screwing up or smiling a bit and in the end he was rather sure that they were to the boy's liking.

"Would you like visiting Herbaceous for a cup of tea first instead?" He asked, knowing that Harry right now simply was too startled and worn for visiting the sweet shop, as much as he had wanted visiting there in the beginning.

Harry tiredly but quickly nodded and so he took the boy beneath his armpits and lifted him up, sat him onto his hip and immediately the small arms wrapped themselves around his neck in a tight grip, the boy's face hiding in the crook of his neck while he walked along the street towards Herbaceous' shop.

There were a few people who gaped at him startled, but he simply sneered at them in his best Snape-manner and no one dared asking stupid questions. Well, he had to admit that it surely was a strange sight, he, dark and tough Severus Snape, famous teacher of Hogwarts known for his harsh and cold demeanor – now carrying a small firsty through Diagon Alley. But maybe they should remember that this small firsty was his son, for Merlin's sake! It has been in that blasted paper for days after all, and not so long ago!

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Upon entering Herbaceous' shop Harry had calmed down from the latest visit at Gladrag's. He was sure, had they visited Gladrag before the oculist then the boy wouldn't have been so upset at all, but first the visit at the oculist, the similarities between Anson and Grunnings, his general fears and then having new glasses – it all had added and for the visit at Gladrag's he simply had already been exhausted and scared.

He only once had seen Grunnings, during the trial of the Dursleys, and he had to admit – there were some similarities between Dursley's former boss and healer Anson. What he however did not understand was – why was Harry so scared of Grunnings to begin with? The man had been as upset as had been the rest of the audience in the courtroom and he had sounded angry when he had given his statement. He didn't even know why Grunnings had been called for giving a statement in the first place, seeing that the man was a muggle, but he had to admit that – as Vernon Dursley's boss, he had told a few interesting things.

But well, that was neither here nor there. Right now Harry was exhausted from a tiring morning and right now Harry was upset upon getting not only new glasses that for once fit his eyesight but new shoes as well.

"Severus!" Herbaceous' voice got him out of his musings. "And Harry! What a nice surprise, are you … oh, sorry, Severus, just come into the back and lay him onto the sofa. Here, take the blanket. Tiring morning, I take it?"

"Indeed." He answered while carefully laying the little imp onto the sofa and covering the sleeping form with the blanket Herbaceous reached towards him. "We have been to the oculist and then to Gladrag's for new shoes as Harry has outgrown his old ones. How this little imp is capable of falling asleep on me at every turn I take is a riddle to me!"

"I see." The man smiled. "Maybe you're becoming boring a bit? Ah – well, it's nice to have you coming here for taking a rest, Severus. So – new glasses. They definitely look nicer than the ones he's been wearing so far!"

"And they definitely fit his eyes much better." Severus growled darkly. "I should have visited Anson much sooner with Harry. The boy is practically half-blind!"

"That bad?" Herbaceous asked worried.

"Yes." He growled. "For now at least, but those glasses are just temporarily. Anson didn't tell me more, he just made another appointment where he wanted a word with me in privacy, without Harry being present. I have to admit that I am a bit worried."

"You fear he might become fully blind?" The other wizard now asked, going to a sideboard and pouring a glass of scotch.

"I do not know." He sighed, taking the glass from Herbaceous' hand. "Anson didn't say so, but he said nothing at all, just that the glasses would be temporarily and that Harry should wear them all the time as long as he didn't get headaches from them, and then he made another appointment."

"Ah, I'm sure it will work out, Severus." Herbaceous said, taking a sip from his own scotch. "I'm sure it isn't as bad as you now fear, maybe he meant that his eyes will become better if he wears the new glasses regularly."

"We will see." The Potions Master sighed. "It is futile worrying now without more information. How are you? And how is Amelie?"

"You know us, Severus." The man chuckled. "We always manage one way or another and the shop is running well these days. Only Amelie is still a bit upset."

"Hmm." Severus made. "Let me guess, she is upset because she has yet to see my son."

"Exactly, my dear friend." The older wizard laughed. "Why don't you and Harry stay for lunch? Harry is sleeping anyway and it's just half an hour until Amelie will come over with lunch. You know, I always tell her that she doesn't have to eat her lunch here in the shop, that she could eat at home with Emma, or that she could visit Emma for lunch. But she insists that she wants having lunch with me. I never will understand this woman!"

"She loves you, Herbaceous." The Potions Master said, his eyebrow lifted at his friend.

"Oh, you just caused me the loss of ten Sickles, Severus!" The man cried out in near desperation at his words.

"And to whom did you lose them?" Severus nearly chuckled.

"To Amelie! We have this bet running since years now!"

"That I never would use the word 'love'?"

"Yes!"

"Well, in this case your wife does know me better than you, my dear friend. Very well, we will stay here for lunch, but you better tell your dear wife or she will have a fit and fear that she had not brought enough food for such a get together."

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"So, how was your visit at Gladrag's, Severus? Harry looks as if you had chased him through the entire shop from the roof to the basement." Herbaceous asked upon coming back from the floo where he had told Amelie that they would have guests for lunch. Well, he had been able hearing the woman's cry of joy even through the floo.

"No." He said. "We just have bought a pair of shoes. And a new hoodie as well, but I didn't tell him yet. He will have to get used to having gotten new shoes to begin with and I will give him the hoodie in a few days."

**Flashback**

_Harry was sitting on a bench in the shoe section of Gladrag's and around him were __several boxes of shoes laying on the floor, the young Gladrag having brought different sorts of shoes. The problem was – none of them were like the ones Harry had had until now. Of course the boy had not complained about it, but it was clear that he simply was unhappy. There was one pair of plain black hiking boots with bright blue shoe soles and bright green shoe laces, and they were not unlike the boots he already had had, but they still were not the same and neither he nor Gladrag had missed the longing gazes he had thrown at his old boots, the ones he had outgrown. _

_"I could enlarge them safely one time." Marvin Gladrag said. "But only one time and if you outgrow them next time, you will have to chose a new pair. Not to mention that if I do so now, then they will be __– let me say unsafe. You see, if you take this folded piece of paper and unfold it, then it is larger, but it will become thinner at the same time and if you unfold it again, then it becomes even larger again, but it also becomes thinner again. The quantity of the material always will be the same, never mind if you use magic or not. And if I enlarge those shoes now, the quality will be affected by it. Not even magic can prevent that."_

_The boy looked up at him, Severus, with eyes that clearly said 'may I keep them, please?' and with a sigh he gave in. _

_"Alright." He said. "You may keep them with the enlarging enchantment, but you will chose a new pair for outside nevertheless and you will wear these ones only inside, especially now as winter approaches. I won't have you running along on ice and snow with shoes you easily could slip and fall with."_

**End flashback**

"Ah, I can see the blue shoe soles, but where are the green shoe laces?" Herbaceous asked with a frown upon taking the boy's boots from the floor where he, Severus, had placed them earlier.

"We exchanged their color from the bright green to plain black as Harry feared that the other children might laugh at him." He answered.

"What?" Herbaceous nearly called out. "But they're fashionable! I've seen several kids with them now."

"Yes, that is what Mr. Gladrag told Harry too, but the boy nevertheless did fear that the others might laugh at him and even though he didn't ask for it, it was clear that he didn't want those even though he liked the blue soles until we suggested exchanging the green of the laces with black."

"You'll be able to reverse the exchange though, won't you?"

"Of course I will." The Potions Master growled. "It's a simple replacing charm, you imbecile!"

"Well, that's good." Herbaceous laughed. "Harry might change his mind. So, what's the hoodie like?"

"It is a simple black hoodie with the motive of a green and blue dragon on the front and back." The Potions Master sighed. "I really do not know what it is with that boy liking dragons combined with the colors green and blue on a black ground as much as he does, but well. He asks for so little, and when I saw his longing gaze at the hoodie I simply bought it too."

"Ah, the young people nowadays like those motives, dragons, and black is a neutral color which you can wear to nearly everything." Herbaceous smirked at him and he huffed.

"That might be – but tell me, my dear friend, what does the color blue have to do with a dragon?"

"I don't know, but if Harry …"

"Severus!" Came Amelie's voice from the floo and the Potions Master got off the armchair he had been sitting in when a blur of black, green and blue hurled itself towards him. "You don't know how good it is seeing you again! It's been way too long!"

"I know, Amelie." He said while folding his arms around the woman that had thrown her arms around his neck and was now hanging on him before she let go and landed on her feet in front of him, looking up at him with dark accusing eyes. "I do apologize." He quickly added, knowing that the woman meant it.

"I really missed you, Severus Snape!" The smaller woman accused, standing there with her fists resting on her hips. "You're not to lock yourself in this dungeon of yours! Merlin! And this son of yours, where is the boy, Severus?"

"Right there, my dear Amelie, right there at the sofa and just waking up at your impatient performance." Severus chuckled. "This woman that performs such a hectically dance that is born of impatience, Harry, is Amelie, Herbaceous' clearly hyperactive wife." He then added towards his son.

"Hyper, Sevie?" The blasted woman smiled at him. "Impatient? You better be careful now, my dear Potions Master or you won't survive this meal!"

"I am so scared now!" The man said. "Oh, come here, you blasted woman, yes, I'm glad to see you too." He then added, drawing the woman into another tight embrace before shaking his head and sitting back into the armchair, looking at his son who had watched the scene with bleary but startled eyes. "If word goes out, of this – unpleasant display of uncontrolled emotions, then you will find yourself in quite some trouble, Mr. Snape." He said, barely keeping himself from smiling at the quick headshake the boy gave away. Well – he had a reputation to uphold after all!

"Oh, Merlin!" Amelie cried in excitement while turning towards Harry. "You're just looking like your father! He was just as skinny when he was your age!"

"I have not been skinny, you blasted woman!" He good heartedly growled.

"You have been, Severus Snape!" Amelie said, waving her wand and a pan with fried potatoes appeared, a pot with vegetables and a plate with sausages. "And not hush, Severus, and eat!" She the added, causing Herbaceous to laugh out aloud while Harry sat there, looking with large eyes from one person to the other.

"I do hope that you will show better manners than this blasted woman is doing right now, Harry." He darkly growled before smirking at Herbaceous while he scooped some of the fried potatoes and vegetables on the boy's plate.. "If I however had just lost ten Sickles to my dear wife, Herbaceous, then I would not laugh like mad at the man that was a witness to this. Do you like a sausage too Harry?"

"Telltale!" Herbaceous growled back at him, causing Amelie to laugh now while she held her hand towards her husband.

"I've known that you would not die upon saying the word 'love', my dear Severus!" Amelie smiled happily while filling her own plate. "Are you sure you won't try the sausages, Harry dear? They're self-made. I don't like those from the butchers, they've only scrap in them. No? Alright dear."

"Is there any food in your household that is not self-made?" Severus asked, remembering that the woman always had baked her bread herself, that she never had bought any finished packages one only had to mix with water and then wave their wands over it.

"I fear Amelie would starve to death if she had not so, she simply would refuse eating anything."

"As if you would not profit from it, Herb!" Amelie shook her head while Herbaceous started eating, huffing at his wife.

"If your husband has not enough manners to speak a praise, Amelie, my dear, I will overtake his role – your meals are the most delicious ones that can be found within entire wizarding Britain."

"Lollyga- I mean, apple polisher!" Herbaceous said with a quick glance at Harry.

"I have known that my son would learn such inappropriate language one day, but never would I have thought he would learn them from my best friend and a grown man!" The Potions Master said, shaking his head before looking at his son and noticing the hidden glances the boy threw at his plate and the sausage he had laying there. "Would you like trying a small piece?" He asked, the boy, ignoring the startled look and the hesitance and simply cutting off a small piece and putting it at the boy's plate. "They're really good."

Again the boy hesitated a moment, but then he actually took the piece of sausage and put it into his mouth, carefully at first, slowly chewing, but then a small smile spread over the pale face and the boy looked up at him, a nearly – nearly, mind you – questioning look in his eyes.

"Would you like a sausage, Harry?" He asked when it was clear that the child wouldn't ask for one himself.

"I … may I have … I wouldn't … wouldn't manage …"

"Close your eyes, Harry, and take a deep breath." He said, out of the corner watching Herbaceous shaking his head at his wife who already was reaching out at the plate and he was glad that the man already knew Harry so well. "There is no need to be nervous, child. That's it, and now ask your question."

"May I have … may I have half a sausage?" The boy asked, taking another deep breath of relief the moment the question was out.

"Of course you may." Severus said, reaching out and cutting one of the sausages in half, placing it at the boy's plate. "I am glad we finally found a kind of meat you actually seem to like." He then added with a smile that became a smirk at the boy's blushing and then a satisfied nod when Harry continued eating.

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"Are you ready to visit this blasted sweet shop now?" Severus asked with a smirk at his son and the quick nod the boy gave away.

The visit at Herbaceous' shop and lunch with the VanHarkins had been exactly what the boy had needed. He had been able to rest and the meal had not been just good but fun as well, with a lot of laugher and even the boy had smiled every now and then.

Amelie had seen them off with a few of her self-made sausages and the words that she simply couldn't take the responsibility of the little dear starving in his, Severus', household, and with a huff at her – and another embrace – he had taken them, whispering a quiet 'I do thank you' into her ear.

Of course Amelie had asked him to visit again soon and at their mansion, and they both had agreed, he, Severus, with words and Harry with a quick nod and a small smile on his face. And he had to admit – the visit surely had done good to the child that right now walked beside him down the road, only his hand slipping into his so he wouldn't fear getting lost.

A few moments later they reached the shop he had dreaded the most, but taking a deep breath, he opened the door and held it open for the boy to enter, taking a step inside after Harry for the sake of his son.

The next moment the shop burst into silence, eyes of every color upon him and mouths hanging agape at the sight of Severus Snape, Potions Master and strictest teacher at Hogwarts – in a sweet shop. Ignoring the fly-catching idiots he concentrated onto his son who – looked just as fly-catching as did the other shop visitors, just with a different reason.

He was sure that Harry never before had been in any shop and surely not in a sweet shop and all the shelves and boards and tables filled with sweets of every imaginable forms, colors and shapes and sizes, some of them sparkling even and others moving, dancing or hopping in their shelves and on the boards.

There were some quill-ends, which you could put on the top end of your quill and then suck on it during classes and there were some tongue-coloring candies that made your tongue glowering in any color but the one of the candy itself and some babbling-balls which made you babbling all the time. There also were some music-lollipops which you could suck at and then music came out of your ears as long as you had it in your mouth – and Severus groaned at the image of Harry running through their quarters with one of these in his mouth while loud music was coming out of his ears and driving him mad.

He watched the boy for a few moments, but when it was clear that Harry did not dare approaching one of the shelves by himself – let alone chose some of the sweets – he bent down a bit towards his son.

"Those sweets surely will not come flying towards you, Harry." He quietly said. "You will have to go near them if you wish to choose any of them."

Well, the startled look the boy gave him was tale telling and he nearly chuckled. Nearly, mind you – he was not in privacy after all and it surely wouldn't do being seen chuckling added to being seen in a sweet shop what was already embarrassing enough.

"That is the purpose of visiting a sweet shop, Harry." He seriously said. "And as long as you do not chose those annoying sweets that causes music coming out of your ears – you may chose whatever you wish."

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Well, it was actually two hours later that they finally were back in their quarters and he brought a sleeping but smiling eleven year old boy to bed that – yet again – had fallen asleep on him during their way from the gates to the dungeons.

He himself couldn't help smiling while he took the bag with the candies from the nearly death-like grip of Harry's fingers and placed it onto the table before he started undressing the boy, dressing him into a pyjama and then covered him with the blanket. It had been a tiring day, a day with a lot of things that had happened but that had ended fairly well, _very_ well, he had to admit and he didn't even mind all the candy the boy now surely would hide at one place or another. Not even the two lollypops that would cause music coming out of his son's ears which he – in the end – had allowed his son at the thought that the child had never had any sweets his entire life. He, Snape, he simply would survive it.

So all in all – yes, it simply had been a strenuous day gone well.

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* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_A discussion between father and son – and a pair of shoes_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	66. Harry Snape and Neville Longbottom

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well … I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings … J. K. Rowling owns them all … I just borrow them a bit …

Uhm … and well … sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts … I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this … I at least promise to try …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before … thank you … and yes … I would be glad to receive more responses … and then I'd like to say – sorry for any mistakes in the story as English is not my language by birth … you however may keep them, the mistakes I mean, all of them …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help … there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_He__ himself __couldn't __help__ smiling __while __he __took__ the __bag__ with__ the __candies __from__ the __nearly__ death-like__ grip __of __Harry's __fingers __and__ placed __it __onto __the __table __before __he __started __undressing __the __boy, __dressing __him __into __a __pair of pyjama __and__ then __covered __him__ with __the __blanket. __It__ had__ been__ a __tiring__ day, __a__ day __with__ a __lot __of __things__ that __had __happened __but __that __had __ended __fairly __well, __very __well actually, __he__ had __to __admit__ and__ he __didn't __even __mind __all __the __candy __the __boy __now__ surely __would __hide__ at __one__ place __or__ another. __Not__ even__ the __two __lollypops __that __would __cause __music __coming __out __of __his__ son's __ears __which __he__ – __in__ the __end__ – __had __allowed __his __son__ at __the __thought __that __the __child __had__ never __had __any __sweets __his __entire __life. __He, __Snape, __he__ simply __would __survive __it._

_So __all__ in __all__ – __yes, __it __simply __had __been __a__ strenuous __day__ gone __well_.

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter ****sixty-six**

**Harry Snape and Neville Longbottom**

Harry had finally obtained a constant daily routine by now that included lessons, meals, enough sleep as well as free time during which he loved reading, playing the piano, coloring forms or simply sitting there and dreaming of whatever was on his mind, and the Potions Master was completely satisfied with the improvement – or almost completely satisfied. He still could see how tense the boy was too often still, Harry rarely relaxing completely and if, then only in the privacy of their quarters and when they were alone. He also knew that the boy still didn't eat enough and neither slept enough – but he did eat more than he had upon arriving here at Hogwarts, was even doing so freely while enjoying each meal he got, and he was having his naps in the afternoon still, even if he never would take them in the bed in their rooms but simply laid on the sofa in the parlor instead – clearly thinking that only babies took their naps in their bed and that a sleep on the sofa surely was not considered a nap at all.

But otherwise the boy had made a few really huge steps forwards and he was trying, even if he sometimes failed and fell a few steps back, but this had to be expected and if he counted everything together then the bottom line was a succeed in more than one area of life, the steps the boy went forwards being more and frequenter than those who fell back.

He watched the class bottling the potion and labeling the vials, and again he was satisfied with Harry's potion, the dragon pox draught being the dark green smoking potion it should be.

The class had gone exceptionally well, none of them having exploded a cauldron, nor melted one, and even Dursley's potion was perfect while Longbottom's was near perfect – a fact that surely was credited to the little fact that he had paired the Gryffindors and the Slytherins and therefore Longbottom with Harry, knowing that Longbottom most likely would be the last to hurt his son mentally. Longbottom might be an inept idiot when it came to potions but he was no bully like Weasley.

He still, after years of teaching here at Hogwarts, didn't know why in Merlin's name the Slytherins had to be taught together with the Gryffindors to begin with, considering that they would fit so much better together with the Ravenclaws. And neither did he understand why once each term the Slytherins and the Gryffindors had to be even paired up in their work for an entire week.

Well, at least Albus wasn't here anymore, he thought for a moment, smirking even while the thought itself seemed to burn a hole into his chest, or he soon would have the Slytherins and Gryffindors having a sleep over together in the great hall.

He hadn't answered Albus' last letter yet, in which he had asked for permission to visit. He simply didn't know an answer to that, didn't know what to do.

Part of him still was angry, furious even, at the old man for not only endangering his son's life but for the damage the previous headmaster had caused – even if not with his own hands – and for then acting so cold and uncaring towards the situation, towards his son, blaming him of overreacting, while part of him missed the old man that always had been like family to him.

He simply didn't know if he would be able facing the man yet without starting an argument with him and blaming him for all his son had to go through still.

Watching the two boys bringing their scales, cauldrons and stirring rods to the sink to clean them he couldn't help frowning at the soft chatter the two of them did and for a moment he felt irritated – until he reminded himself that Harry finally just acted like a normal child, whispering in a class, conversing with a classmate and even going against his teacher by doing so – and he couldn't help smirking at that particular thought.

Not to mention that it was nothing the others didn't do as well. He easily could chose to simply having not noticed.

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His father had been right, brewing a potion together with Longbottom had not been as bad as he had been expected.

His father had told him this morning that they would have to pair Gryffindors and Slytherins this week and he had told him that he had made sure – he would be paired with Longbottom as the more sturdy Gryffindor boy was no bully and surely would not hurt him. He also had ensured to him that he had spoken to the other teachers and that they would pair him with Longbottom as well.

And well – he had been right. It hadn't been that bad and the other boy never had said anything to him that had hurt him and he never had touched him in any way, had always asked civilly if he could get something or if he needed something. He had been careful at first, unsure of what to do and of what to say, but soon he had started to warm up to the other boy that really was kind and he even had smiled at him at one point or another.

In the end Longbottom even had told him that he could call him Neville if he liked and he had told Neville that he could call him Harry if he liked. This Gryffindor really was alright, he guessed – he would be careful though for some time more.

Placing the scales and the stirring rods into their cauldrons and then bringing them to the sink to clean them, Harry rolled up his sleeve and began scrubbing his tools, not realizing that Neville beside him wasn't cleaning his cauldron anymore, that he wasn't moving even but gazing at him in near shock, and looking over at the other boy, lifting his eyebrow at him, he could see Neville's gaze being fixed on his hands, on his wrists actually and following the other boy's gaze Harry paled.

They were healed since long now, the Professor, his father, had seen to that, but still the scars around his wrists were visible, clearly and absolutely visible pink lines that wound themselves around his wrists and his heart nearly stopped. Quickly he rolled his sleeves back down his arms and lifted the cauldron out of the sink, pretending nothing had happened and hoping that Neville would accept it and not ask him about them or commenting on them. He didn't have such luck however and he should have known, seeing that it was a bloody Gryffindor he was paired with, and a Gryffindor always was bold and straight without thinking of his questions or comments.

"Harry?" The boy asked and Harry shook his head.

"Just … just for-forget it." He quietly said.

"Harry, please." Neville again tried but again Harry shook his head.

"S-sorry, Nev-neville … just … just for-forget it, please." He stammered, unsure of how to react, not knowing how to make the other boy stopping his curiosity.

"But …" The other boy tried once more, sounding desperate or scared.

"Please …" He choked out, his voice nearly hoarse. "I just … just can- … I just can-can't tell you … please …"

"Does your father know 'bout them?" Neville asked and Harry barely was able to breath by now, tightly gripping the edge of the sink while he feared he might drop at any moment. Why had he been so stupid to let the other boy see his scars? And what would he think now? And would he tell …

"Nev-neville … ple-please …"

"Of course I do know about the exact physical condition my son is in, Mr. Longbottom." The soft growl from the Professor came from behind him, and he froze – until he felt the man's heavy hand coming to rest on his shoulder in a calming and reassuring way. "Or do you believe me incapable of taking care of my own son?" The man then asked with a sneer and Harry stiffened even more, shaking his head and silently asking the Potions Master to stop his harsh tone. Neville only had been worried, he only had wanted to – he didn't know what, but he knew that it wasn't something bad.

Severus gazed down into his son's pale face and he easily could read the boy's thoughts that were written clearly on the child's forehead – fear over being asked about his scars in the first place, fear about being found out, fear about appearing like a – _'__freak__'_ – and fear about Longbottom not being gently with him anymore but mean and bullying after he had been ridiculed by him, Snape, for only trying to help an for worrying. Longbottom at the same time shook his head quickly, his eyes large at his potions professor and it was clear that he was scared.

"Be that as it may – while you have yet to show a bit more subtleness in approaching some subjects I do acknowledge that this foolish Gryffindor bravery of yours might be in the way." He therefore growled at Longbottom for his son's sake trying to hide praise within his accusation. "Next time, even if I appreciate your concern towards my son, I expect you to not startle people with your inability to keep your mouth shut."

Casting a last glance at both boys and giving a short squeeze to Harry's shoulder, he turned and went back to the front of the classroom and his desk.

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"Look, the stupid idiot is walking with the stuttering git." He could hear Weasley whispering behind him.

"'M sorry." Neville murmured while following Harry out of the classroom, ignoring the other Gryffindor's comments. "Didn't want to upset you."

"'S ok …" Harry said, looking out for Draco and Theodore but knowing that both of them were entitled to go to the greenhouse together with their own Gryffindor partners and he sighed while trying to as well ignore Weasley.

"Dunno why Neville's walking with Snape anyway." Thomas or Finnigan said, he always mistook them for the other.

"However, I'm glad that for once my potion didn't explode – thanks to you." The Gryffindor boy said. "You're really good at potions."

"N-no …" He quietly answered, not daring to look at the other boy while they walked along the corridor and then outside into the front courtyard. "I-I'm still … still make-making … I'm still … still … Merlin!" Harry yelled out in frustration over himself. He knew why his speech was worse right now, his father had explained it to him and he knew that it was because he was so damn unsure around others he didn't know so well, and that then his brain started working in different way – or something like that. But he hated it nevertheless! It was stupid and he wanted it to stop!

"Be quiet, Snape!" Weasley yelled over at him while passing him and brushing his shoulder against his, Harry's. "You're not alone here."

"Shut up, Ron." Neville said, glaring at the red head. "You're a git!"

"And you're a traitor!" Weasley said and Harry could feel the anger radiating off the boy, anger now not only directed at him but at his classmate as well.

"Just ignore him." Neville said, pulling him at the sleeve of his shirt away while grinning at him, but not in a bad way like Weasley had grinned at him. "You know, we have a week together. I won't run away and you have enough time to say what you want."

Blinking stupidly at the other boy Harry stopped mid-step. Wasn't that what the Professor, what his father always said too? Not just in such a joking way? And was the Gryffindor boy really joking with him? And about his blasted stammering no less instead of taking him for stupid?

"I'm still … still making mis-mistakes." He said after closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, suddenly feeling much better in the other boy's presence than before. If just Draco and Theodore would be here now too, and Blaise, then everything would be alright and he'd be happy.

"You think he'll – accidentally – trip on his way to the green house?" He could hear Weasley's voice from in front of him and for a moment his blood froze in his veins while fear gripped him. Surely the red haired boy would not physically harm him?

"Are you crazy?" Neville asked, startled, and for a moment Harry didn't know how the other boy meant it, if he really thought he were crazy or if this too was just a joke. Maybe he was crazy? He was different from other children after all, he knew that much after all, and so maybe he really was? And the other boy knew it? "Each of your potions so far had been perfect! And your essays all get an outstanding, and not only in potions but in other subjects too! And it's the same with quizzes!"

"Sure, if you wanna get into trouble with Snape for touching his son!" The other Gryffindor boy Weasley was with said and again he tried to ignore them.

"'M not … 'm not so … so smart …" He said, blushing a crimson red.

"Right, you're really not if you say so." Neville shook his head. "Listen, the teachers are thinking very high of you and none of them would give you such good marks of you didn't deserve them."

"They … they're … they're wrong …"

"You think I care?" Weasley said and for a moment Harry felt panic rising in his chest, wanting nothing more to run and find his father somewhere in the dungeons instead of going on to the greenhouses. But he knew that the Professor too had lessons to give and he couldn't always bother the Professor with his stupid problems and fears, he would have to face them at one point or another. He couldn't always flee and run to his father.

Not to mention that he'd had worse.

A moment later he didn't know if it had been such a good idea, trying to be brave, the moment Weasley turned at him and gripped his arm in a tight grip.

"You know, freak, just because Snape's your father, it doesn't mean that you have free reign here!" The red head hissed at him and if he wouldn't be scared out of his wits he surely would have told the taller Gryffindor that he never had planned overtaking _any_ kind of reign, neither with the Potions Master being his father nor without. Fact was – he was too scared for even thinking of such an answer and he only could try being as brave as possible without showing the boy how scared he was, not an easy thing and he forced himself to let his face go as blank as the Professor's face so often was while he forced his eyes to go cold and hard, not knowing if he really succeeded or if they gave away his fear.

He simply felt sick with fear.

"Let … let go of … of my arm … if you don-don't want … want to spend … a week with … with your left hand being your right …" He calmly said, wondering how he could speak so calm to begin with while he inwardly was surely dying of a heart attack. He simply felt sick, could feel the bile rising and he swallowed forcefully while trying to fight down the sickness of being touched in a vicious way by a boy that was taller and sturdier than him and that seemed to hate him.

"Let him go, Ron!" Neville said, taking a step towards the other Gryffindor, but he barely registered that.

"Are you threatening me, Snape?" Weasley asked, grinning at him and tightening the grip he had on his arm until it hurt, and suddenly the physical and forced contact was too much all of a sudden and his vision went black while his body went limp – into the waiting arms of one Severus Snape who suddenly was there. He didn't notice this anymore however, nor did he notice the glare the Potions Master threw towards Ronald Weasley, hissing at him in anger about being in trouble.

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He had heard the comment Weasley had said while leaving the potions classroom, walking behind Harry and Longbottom and he quickly stored away the potions vials the students had handed in so no one could accidentally open and ingest one of them before he had tested them before he followed the first years out into the grounds

Well, that was one of his responsibilities as a Potions Master after all, to make sure that no one could accidentally get their hands at dangerous or untested potions or potions ingredients. He was responsible for the safety in his laboratory and classroom and so he locked the untested potions away before leaving the room.

He just went outside into the grounds the moment Weasley grabbed Harry's arm and said something he barely could understand as 'Snape's your father' and 'free reign' and he silently but swiftly went over to them. He could hear his son saying something about Weasley's left hand being his right if he didn't let go of his arm, but he had to strain his ears to hear the child's lower words, the smaller boy definitely being scared, he could see as much from miles away and form just seeing the back of his son.

He however had to admit that – despite the situation – Harry outwardly appeared calmer than what he would have thought possible and he couldn't help feeling pride at his son's calm words mixing with the anger he felt at Weasley.

Longbottom said something to Weasley, but he didn't pay much attention to him and the next moment he could hear the blasted red haired Gryffindor asking his son if he tried to threaten him and he actually could see the boy tightening his grip on his son's arm. He reached them just the second Harry's knees gave way and Weasley paling significantly, and instinctively he reached out and caught his son's limp form before he could hit the floor.

"You seem to _ask_ for trouble, Mr. Weasley." He hissed at the red head before turning. "That will be a conversation with the headmistress – you will be informed of the time." He added while already hurrying back towards the castle, only barely noticing Draco, Theodore and Longbottom following him and once more he turned – annoyed this time.

"You three better heed to your classes lest you find yourself in detention for missing classes without a pass." He hissed, still angry before hurrying away with his son in his arms, ignoring the startled gazes that met him on his way through the hallway and then down into the dungeons.

Blasted, idiot, boy!

How many more detentions would he risk until he finally had learned to leave Harry alone finally?

Hurrying down the stairway leaning to the dungeons he silently cursed under his breath and coming close to his quarters he already muttered the password even before he was really had reached them and the door swung open so that he could hurry through without stopping or slowing down his pace.

Without hesitation he laid Harry onto the sofa and then called for Zilly, before summoning a wet cloth and placing it at the boy's forehead, brushing a few strands of the black hair from the pale face. Why couldn't this idiot brat get a rest once in a while? Hadn't he had enough over his head already? Had there to be a boy that bullied Harry now too?

Said child taking a deep breath before stirring made him looking over with a sigh of his own and he watched the green eyes in the pale face blinking before opening and fixing them at him.

"'M sorry …" Harry immediately said, struggling to sit up and the Potions Master placed his palm on his chest, slightly pushing him back down.

"Stay still." He said. "And do not apologize for being harassed by Weasley. How do you feel?"

"'M thirsty …" Came the boy's answer, the small voice sounding miserable and the green eyes watched him unsurely. A moment later Zilly already was there and reached out a glass of water while Severus helped his son to sit up. He watched Harry taking small and slow sips of the drink, like he always did, and then he took the glass and placed it at the table before gently pushing the boy back into a flat position.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked, still eyeing his son closely, talking in the pale and startled face and the quick nod the boy gave away.

"What happened?" He then asked, trying to not let his anger at Weasley shown on his face. Weasley's behavior wasn't Harry's fault and he should place his anger where it belonged to.

"Don-don't know …" His son quietly whispered. "I felt … I felt ill … and then … and then every-everything went black."

"Are you hurt anywhere?" He asked, his dark eyes still fixing his son who shook his head and he nearly growled. Of course that boy would shake his head. Harry would shake his head upon this particular question even if he had a broken arm.

"I would like seeing your arm where Weasley has grabbed you." He said while narrowing his eyes.

"'M fine …" The boy said, looking at him startled and he gritted his teeth for a moment.

"This is not up for discussion, Mr. Snape." He then demanded. "Your arm."

He didn't wish to startle Harry more than he already was, but for all he knew Weasley could have done more harm than just a bruise – and even a bruise would be already bad enough. It has been an unnecessary act of violence and he didn't plan on letting the Gryffindor getting away with it – nor did he plan on letting his son suffering needlessly. Not to mention that Zilly already stood beside him, holding a healing salve already in his old and wrinkled fingers.

With some reluctance Harry slipped out of the shirt and Severus immediately could see the bruise that had formed on his son's upper arm, a large bruise that clearly held the fingerprints from the taller boy, and he again had a hard time keeping his anger under control in front of his son.

"You need to address me with something like that, Harry." He softly said while applying the salve to the bruise. "You do not have to suffer such things anymore and I need to know when you are hurt so that I can help you. You might not believe it still, but you are not with your relatives anymore – not to mention that they have been wrong, that they have wronged _you_ in the first place, Harry and it stops here and now. I will not have you suffering in any way, son."

Of course there was no answer, and of course the boy looked aside and gently he reached out placed his fingers beneath Harry's chin, lifted the boy's head so that he had to look at him.

"I do mean it, Harry." He quietly said, his dark eyes seriously on his son's green ones. "You have come a long way since you are here, child, but it is time that you learn to address me with such things. I need to know when you are hurt so that I can help, because I _want_ to help! It is time that you go onto the next step and start believing and trusting into a caring adult, into my person – that I will help you if you are in need of help. But you have to address me if you need help or medical care or anything at all as I am not able to read your thoughts – not generally, Harry, not without using legillimence and not without using a potion or a spell to invade your mind – what I do not wish to do without your consent. Do you understand this?"

This time the boy nodded again, but he could see the frustration and the desperation radiating off his son and suddenly he couldn't help pulling the boy close and wrapping his arms around the small form, holding him close to his chest. Merlin! What had this idiot child done to him that he was so protective over him? That he was so scared even whenever something was not as it should be? What spell had this idiot child woven over him to make him worry over him and to make him scared of losing him – while it was – just – a bruise on his upper arm?

"I have a conversation to hold with the headmistress, Harry." He finally said, running his hand through his son's hair before holding the boy on his shoulders so that he could look into the small face again. "I ask you to stay here with Zilly – and laying on that sofa. I am sure the both of you can find one or another means to amuse yourselves with until I am back."

He cast a meaningful glance at Zilly that clearly said _'__do __under __no __circumstances __leave __just __one __eye __off __him __and__ inform __me __the __second __he __looses __consciousness __again.__'_ And then he turned upon the repeated quick nod his son gave him to leave for a conversation he was not looking forwards to.

Minerva was the headmistress now, but she had been the head of Gryffindor house not too long ago and she always had protected her lions from him rather well. On the other hand, she had given Weasley detention with him, Snape, when she had caught the boy bullying Harry last time and she was rather fond of Harry as well, was helping in the boy's heath where she could.

But well, never mind what – he would not allow Weasley to go on like this any further. It was time to get this boy under control and he would see to it.

"Sir? Professor Snape?" Came a small and timid voice from behind him and he turned sharply – to face Neville Longbottom coming in from the grounds and from herbology. Were ninety minutes already over? Had he been sitting with Harry for so long?

"Yes? Mr. Longbottom?" He asked, trying to keep his tone of voice civil with this Gryffindor upon noticing the nearly scared look on the boy's face and reminding himself that not he had hurt his son.

"I just … I just wanted to ask … well, I mean …" The boy started stuttering and where he at the beginning of the school year always had been annoyed at Longbottom's incompetence when it came to human language, he now narrowed his eyes at the boy. He knew that Longbottom could speak rather well with Harry, he had heard them talking in his class today and he also knew that Longbottom was capable of speaking with his fellow Gryffindors, he had heard them talking as well throughout the past few weeks. But he also knew that Longbottom was scared of him, Snape, and he knew that Harry's speech got worse whenever he was scared. It surely was nothing Harry was to be blamed for – and knowing Augusta Longbottom, it maybe was nothing Longbottom was to be blamed for either.

"Take a deep breath and close your eyes for a moment, Mr. Longbottom." He instructed while taking a few slow steps towards the boy, giving the same advice he always had given Harry until his son had learned doing so by himself. He watched the rather round face going startled, the blue eyes becoming large for a moment until he obeyed upon a nod from him, mistrust clearly written on the boy's face in huge red letters.

"Good, and now relax and then ask your question." He softly said so to not startle the idiot brat. What did Longbottom want of him anyway? If he had a problem, then he should go to Lupin! The wolf was his head of house after all! But then – had he not started giving the Gryffindors a chance like he did with his Slytherins? In visiting their common room once a week?

Longbottom once had asked him this question – what to do with a student that understood the ground rules of potions but was not able brewing one nevertheless, and he had told him that this student had to become more confident. After that he had gone to Augusta Longbottom and had given her a piece of his mind – had clearly accused her of verbal abuse, even if he had known that he had gone a bit too far. But well – it had worked well. Augusta had looked at him in near shock after such words coming from him of all people, but two days later Longbottom had gotten a letter and he had been sure that he had recognized her family crest on the envelope. Another two days later Longbottom had approached him again – to thank him.

He never had learned what Augusta had written in this letter of hers, but not only had she written to her grandson once a week from there on, but the boy had become calmer since, less clumsy and less stuttering – except for in front of him, Snape. Well – he was a rather intimidating person, he had to admit that, making first years still cry, never mind how soft he had become when it came to his son – or some of his Slytherins.

"I just wanted to ask … if Harry is alright." The boy finally said, getting him out of his musings and he gave a curt nod of approval – that earned him a near-smile from the blasted child!

"Mr. Snape is – well." He finally answered, considering his words so that he would not breach Harry's privacy. "He is at home currently as I am sure you can understand that he has been hurt by Mr. Weasley, physically even, but I am sure you will have your partner for lessons back by tomorrow morning."

"Ok." The boy quietly said, nodding his head and he clearly looked relieved. "Would … I mean, if it isn't … could you please …"

"Again, Mr. Longbottom, close your eyes and take a deep breath." He once more instructed, trying to keep his annoyance out of his voice and again reminding himself that it was not this particular boy's fault. How was it that he was going soft on such imbeciles as the Gryffindors were as well now? Had Harry such an amount of influence over him? Merlin! He was doomed!

"Could you please say hi to him for me, sir?" The boy then asked and again he gave a nod of approval.

"I will." He curtly said and he was already about to turn and continue his way to the headmistress when a thought struck him, and he faced the Gryffindor once more. "One more thing, Mr. Longbottom." He quietly said. "Ten points to Gryffindor – you're your bravery."

"But … but …" The boy gasped, his eyes wide with surprise. "But I wasn't … I wasn't brave, it's been Harry who told Ron …"

"And it has been you, who has been brave enough to speak to my son, have you not been?" He said, lifting his eyebrow before finally turning and leaving a dumbfounded Gryffindor standing there alone in the hallway.

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"It is enough!" He growled darkly, facing the blasted woman that looked at him with a blank face that clearly showed – her mind was just as blank as was her face. "It is absolutely enough and I won't have anymore of it! You either make sure that this stops right now or I will take matters into my own hands!"

"Severus, if you'd mind telling me what exactly has you so upset, then I …"

"I am not _upset_, woman!" He growled. "And I am speaking of your lions bullying my snakes! Especially Weasley going against my son over and over again! Today he even left bruises on Harry's arm and I had to take him home after he has passed out!"

"You are joking, Severus." Minerva gasped, suddenly looking not only less blank but very serious as well.

"Do I look like a man who has just made a joke?" The Potions Master hissed out angrily, leaning close to the headmistress – who was unimpressed. "Do you see me laughing?"

Still unimpressed but with a resolute face Minerva called for her house elf and Severus straightened up and went to the window, gazing down into the grounds to calm himself, knowing that he was beyond angry and that he had to calm down before his temper got the upper hand at him.

"Please inform Mr. Ronald Weasley that I wish to speak to him in my office, Mimny." Minerva said and Severus couldn't help taking a deep and rather relieved breath. Minerva wouldn't ignore his request like Albus always had. At her name for her house elf, whose name actually was Mimmy however, he couldn't help smirking, knowing _where_ Minerva's calling her Mimny came from.

"Would you like a cup of tea, Severus?" She then asked and he turned back to the desk.

"That would be very much appreciated, thank you." He said and a moment later a cup of tea floated towards him, Minerva obviously knowing that he would not sit down at the desk but preferred to keep standing. She surely knew him well enough after all, even if he would chose sitting down with her while drinking a cup of tea in privacy – but that was not a private conversation, this here was business and he hadn't been sure how the new headmistress would react.

A few moments later, which passed in silence, there was a knock on the door and Minerva called in the miscreant that surely was standing outside – and he straightened up even more. Surely he would not show the brat how upset he was. Weasley himself cast a nervous glance at the headmistress before glancing at him and then losing color rapidly, he noticed with some satisfaction.

"Mr. Weasley." Minerva said, her mouth a thin line that clearly showed – she was not pleased with the boy. "If I remember correctly, and I am sure that I do, then not only Professor Snape has told you to leave Mr. Snape alone, but I did so as well, and not too long ago, I might add. How many detentions did you have because of bullying Mr. Snape so far, if I might ask?"

"Uhm, four, Ma'am." The boy answered and he narrowed his eyes. He knew of three so far only.

"Four, Mr. Weasley." Minerva said, her voice showing her disapproval as well. "I am disappointed in you, Mr. Weasley. You had four detentions because of bullying the same fellow student and still you are not learning from it. Did Mr. Snape provoke you in any way that would legitimate your bullying towards him? Did Mr. Snape provoke you in any way at all to begin with?"

There was a pause of silence during which Weasley looked up at him, Snape, his eyes becoming angry for a moment before he averted his eyes and shook his head.

"I would like getting a verbal answer from you, Mr. Weasley." Minerva said and he lifted an eyebrow at her. Never before had he seen the woman as angry and as resolute as she right now was. "Because _you_ are able giving one whereupon you have demanded such a thing from a classmate that clearly was disabled in this area – and you have _known_ that he was unable of giving a verbal answer, do not deny that. You also have stolen already from said student and you have bullied and threatened that student already more than once. And still you seem to _not __care!_ You even have hurt Mr. Snape this time, leaving bruises and causing him to pass out. Your behavior towards your classmate is _inexcusable_ Mr. Weasley and if I just _once __more_ hear of such, then be assured that the consequences will be a two week suspension from school – which you will have to serve at home under the watchful eyes of your parents! Note however, that your parents will be informed this time – again, Mr. Weasley, and you will have detention with Professor Snape – again. Added to this you are confined to your dormitory for the next two weeks, except for classes, meals and detention of course – not to mention the fifty points you are losing your house again."

Lifting his eyebrow at the headmistress he couldn't help noticing that he never before had seen his colleague in such a state of mind, Minerva having started her speech calmly and in a normal tone of voice that however had risen with each sentence until she in the end had actually yelled at the miscreant – a thing that never before had happened. Minerva was not unlike him a teacher who got a class under perfect control without raising her voice and most of the times even a raised eyebrow or a single soft word was enough. But this time Minerva actually had raised her voice – a sign of _how_ upset and disappointed she was in Weasley.

"Y-yes, M-Ma'am." The boy stammered out, swallowing heavily and his face had lost all remaining color, the brat looking rather ill at the end of her speech and most likely at the prospect of being banned from school for two weeks which he would have to serve at home where Molly Weasley could have his hide each day of that fortnight. And he knew Molly Weasley – that woman _would__ have_ the boy's hide. Molly was a kind and gentle witch who liked to laugh and help others – but woe betides those who were in her disgrace!

"During the time you are confined to your dormitory, Mr. Weasley, I expect you to write an essay." Snape said, adding to the idiot boy's punishment and causing the boy to groan out in frustration or anger, he didn't know but he didn't care either. "About appropriate behavior towards a fellow student – never mind which house from – and about bullying. Two scrolls of parchment and on my desk by Friday morning – note however that I won't accept an essay that is written in this large scrawl of yours – or you will write twice as much. I expect you in the potions laboratory at eight pm sharp."

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She didn't know if she really had been fair and for a moment the headmistress sighed while watching the deputy headmaster, Severus Snape leaving her office, watching the tense and angular lines of his back as he walked away and he couldn't help thinking of that tense little boy who had arrived here at the age of eleven so many years ago, concealing his terror and his pain behind a bitter mask and hiding away in abandoned classrooms or dark alcoves.

This eleven year old boy too had been bullied by two Gryffindors, by James and Sirius, and maybe she had not done enough back then to stop them. Of course she had talked to them over and over again, and not only with them but with Remus as well, had told them to stop their bullying and she even had given them detentions because of it. But with the experience and knowledge she now had – she knew that she had not done enough to stop them, maybe because they had been _her_ lions, students in _her_ house, and maybe because they had been rather charming children back then.

But Severus too had been – in his own way – a charming child, a child that had never had it easy to begin with and she knew that it had been unfair towards him. And she also knew that therefore it was – at least partly – her responsibility that Severus had become such a harsh man in the end, after years of not only cruel abuse at home but cruel bullying at school just as well, bullying that easily could have ended in Severus' death even, if James had not seen reason in the end. She would have been able to stop at least the bullying at school, had she been more persistent.

What had her worried now was – had he been unnecessary harsh with Weasley because of this? Because she had felt that she had to make up for past mistakes? Because history was repeating itself and Severus' son was bullied by Gryffindors now? Should she have been more patient with the boy and give him not as many punishments as she actually had done? She didn't know, but she'd simply had enough, she decided the moment Severus closed the door behind him and she was alone in her office, taking a deep breath. She had warned Weasley often enough and she long enough had tried to settle the matter amicably, but the boy had not listened to her. He simply would have to deal with the consequences now.

And surely it had nothing to do that it was Harry they were speaking of here. She would have reacted the same if Weasley had bullied a different student over and over again. Of course she liked Harry and of course she didn't like seeing the small and so fragile boy that reminded her so much at Severus when he had been that age, being hurt, but surely this was not the reason for her harsh punishment of Weasley now.

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**To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_A discussion between father and son – and a pair of shoes_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	67. under the bed?

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well … I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings … J. K. Rowling owns them all … I just borrow them a bit …

Uhm … and well … sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts … I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this … I at least promise to try …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before … thank you … and yes … I would be glad to receive more responses … and then I'd like to say – sorry for any mistakes in the story as English is not my language by birth … you however may keep them, the mistakes I mean, all of them …

**Added author's note: **

I do know that in Britain something like a boot placed outside the door on St. Nicholas' Day is not common, but I decided to use this nevertheless because today – the day I have written this particular chapter – is December, 6th – and therefore St. Nicholas' Day and my children have put their boots in front of the door. I have filled them during the night, like always and it was as much fun for me doing this as was for the children to get their boots in the morning. I do hope that you won't kill me for this …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help … there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_She didn't know, but she'd simply had enough, she decided the moment Severus closed the door behind him and she was alone in her office, taking a deep breath. She had warned Weasley often enough and she long enough had tried to settle the matter amicably, but the boy had not listened to her. He simply would have to deal with the consequences now._

_And surely it had nothing to do that it was Harry they were speaking of here. She would have reacted the same if Weasley had bullied a different student over and over again. Of course she liked Harry and of course she didn't like seeing the small and so fragile boy that reminded her so much at Severus when he had been that age, being hurt, but surely this was not the reason for her harsh punishment of Weasley now._

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter sixty-seven**

**Under the bed?**

It had been snowing every now and then during the past few days but it didn't stick so far – the weather had been just cold and wet, ugly, and they haven't been outside for much longer than half an hour lately. Of course Severus took Harry out every day still, dressed in warm clothes, but it wasn't fun for the child like it had been during the late summer and autumn where there had been a few very sunny and warm days. Harry easily froze in this cold and wet weather now, never mind how warm he dressed the boy.

But today it had started to snow and alone by looking up into the sky he knew – it would snow all day long and most likely all night too.

He wouldn't have cared normally as he was Severus Snape and surely he did _not_ pay attention to the beauty of snow or any Christmas-like crap – but he had an eleven year old son now who surely would care about such things and for the sake of his son only he – well, _hoped_, that he would be correct so that tomorrow at St. Nicholas' Day Hogwarts would be white and it still would be snowing. The boy surely had not had a white Christmas so far, he was sure of that from what he knew.

Casting a last glance at the ceiling of the great hall before he cast a look at Harry sitting at the Slytherin table together with Draco and Theodore, taking the last sip of his tea and then getting off to head for his potions classroom as it was Thursday – and first off they had potions.

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Potions had gone well so far, but he hadn't been worrying about that anymore. He had been brewing so many potions together with the Professor – with his father, he thought with a frown. How was it that he still, after more than three month he lived with his father now, thought of him as 'the Professor' or 'Professor Snape' or 'his teacher' or anything like this? It wasn't normal! The Professor was his father and he should think of him as his father, shouldn't he?

Draco didn't think of his father as 'the ministry consultant' after all and Neville didn't think of his grandmother as 'Mrs. Longbottom' or something like that either. It wasn't normal! They were Draco's dad and Neville's granny! Why could _he_ not think of Professor Snape as his dad? Or as his father at least?

Taking a deep breath and shaking his head he went on towards the transfiguration classroom.

"What?" Draco asked, frowning at him and he lifted his eyebrow for a moment, causing the blond, nearly white haired boy to chuckle.

"Dunno." He then said, shrugging his shoulders and taking a deep breath. "Just thought … that I don't … don't think of Professor … of Professor Snape as my … as my dad like you do with your … with your families."

"You've never known him until November and that's just three months ago." Neville said, shrugging his shoulders too. "Guess that you have to get used to the idea, you've never had a dad before after all. _I_ surely wouldn't be able thinking of Professor Snape as my dad ever!"

"Course not, Longbottom." Draco laughed and Harry smiled. In the beginning Draco and Theo hadn't been too eager having Neville hanging around with them, but during the week they'd been paired and since then they had learned that Neville wouldn't hurt him and that the other boy was alright, even if he was a Gryffindor. They even met in the library sometimes in the afternoons to sit and study together now, even if Draco surely would never admit that he was starting to befriend a Gryffindor of all people. "Our head of house just has to pass you and you're paling."

"It isn't as if he ever were friendly to me." Neville scowled at Draco and Harry's smile deepened.

"He's gotten len-lenient … he's gotten lenient on you lately." He said.

"Now that you mention it, Harry – he indeed _has_!" Draco gasped, stopping mid-step even and looking between him and the Gryffindor boy startled, shocked.

"I don't notice much of it!" Neville sighed unhappily and again Harry chuckled.

"He is!" He smiled, but a moment later his smile became wary when is eyes fell onto another figure the moment they entered Professor Lupin's classroom, and it was _not_ Professor McGonagall – aunt Minerva who stood there beside the man. Here too, he wasn't used to thinking of her as – aunt Minerva, even if she now was his godmother since a few days now, while Professor Flitwick, uncle Filius, Merlin! – was his godfather! How came that all his family were teachers now he wondered for a moment with another frown on his face. Professor Snape being his father, and the Professors McGonagall and Flitwick being his godmother and godfather – what would come next? Surely his father wouldn't marry one of the female teachers here at Hogwarts who then would become his mother?

"Harry?" Draco asked and he looked over at the blond boy, blinking for a moment before shaking his head.

"Nothing." He whispered.

"You do not look as if there were nothing, Mr. Snape." Professor McGonagall's voice made him looking up sharply and he inwardly groaned at her sharp look.

"Just a silly … a silly thought, Pro-Professor." He said, gulping and hoping that she would let it go – surely she had better things to do than standing there and questioning him, now that she was the headmistress.

There were a few seconds during which the teacher looked at him sharply, as if scrutinizing him and considering her next move, like Professor Snape so often did, and he started feeling nervous.

"Very well." Professor McGonagall then said, stepping aside and giving the way into the classroom free for the three Slytherins and one Gryffindor. "But I expect you to inform Professor Lupin the moment you feel unwell." She then added and he again inwardly groaned. It was nice having someone who cared, like Professor Snape, but it was annoying if every teacher at school did so and he started to fear that Professor Flitwick would react the same way.

"Yes, Pro-Professor." He answered obediently, hoping that she wouldn't say more about it and then went into the classroom.

"Scary, really." Theodore whispered into his ear while entering the room beside him. "Guess it sucks having half the teachers of Hogwarts as your family."

Nodding he went to his usual place in the transfiguration classroom, casting a quick glance at Dudley and giving away a short "hi" to his cousin who answered with a soft "hi" himself. He wasn't sure yet about having Dudley in his magical classes too. Of course his father had told him – with a pang of pride he noticed that he had managed thinking of the Professor as his father this time – that Dudley would be there, but he had forgotten about that and he only now had remembered, upon seeing his cousin sitting on the Slytherin side of the classroom – and he didn't know if he liked it, especially as it was just directly behind his place.

"Together with Professor McGonagall you have transfigured pine needles into needles already, small pebbles into buttons and balls into pincushions." Professor Lupin started his lesson after closing the classroom door. "We then have gone to transfigure our quills into cutlery, ink pots into glasses and books into plates – and now we will go on to transfiguring clothes, something I am sure most of you will find very useful."

Frowning he noticed that the Professor kept a nearly constant eye on Dudley and he suddenly guessed that Professor McGonagall might have been here to the transfiguration classroom to inform Professor Lupin of Dudley and his role in Harry's life – and to ask of him to have an eye on Dudley. What a nice thought, he sighed in frustration. Another teacher who had more work to do because of him, Harry.

"We will start with changing the color." Professor Lupin then said. "You just take the socks I have asked you to bring today and then point your wand at the pair with a 'decoloro'. You just have to make sure that they are not folded or the new color would not reach the core of the folded socks while at the same time you have to make sure that you change the color of both socks at the same time while they are laying one upon the other or you would not manage the same shade of color with the second sock if you do the spell separated on them – let's have a try."

Well – it wasn't as easy as Professor Lupin had made it sound, but he had known this, hadn't he? He still tried to do the spell without saying the incantation after all, even if he didn't know why and it took him nearly an hour to manage changing the color of the sock that lay above the other but not of both and in the end he had a red and a green sock laying atop his desk – not really a result he was satisfied with.

"Red of … of all things" He growled angrily. "I hoped that … that I could change them."

"Aren't those socks your dad bought?" Draco asked with a frown. "I remember him complaining about having to buy red socks for the Christmas play this year."

"They … they are." He said, sighing. "But … but I don't … don't like them! And I can't … can't change both!"

"I think they're brilliant!" Dudley's voice from behind came and he turned in his seat to blink at his cousin, not sure if the other boy had meant it the way he had said it or if he meant it in a negative way.

"Why!" He frowned at his cousin, not sure what Dudley was on about. "They … they're two … diff- … different colors!"

"So what?" Dudley asked, frowning back at him. "It's green and red, Slytherin and Gryffindor colors of all things! It's brilliant!"

"Except that Professor Snape won't be too pleased about having those Christmas colored socks being turned into two different colored socks!" Theodore giggled, having turned as well, together with Draco the moment he had turned towards his cousin and he guessed that they had done so to keep him, Harry, safe.

"I don't think that Professor Snape will be too angry." Dudley shrugged. "Green is a Christmas color too after all and the irony of it is plain, isn't it?"

"Maybe." Harry sighed. "Dunno. I bet-better change … change it back … back anyway." He then said, taking a deep breath at alone the thought of Professor Snape being angry at him and he turned back to the front of the classroom, his eyes falling onto Professor Lupin who watched them with a raised eyebrow.

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It was this very evening that he met Professor Lupin a second time, the man having arrived shortly after dinner and his father – another pang of pride hit him at him thinking 'his father' instead of 'the Professor' – had told him that he was here for his speaking lessons. They had spoken of this before and in the beginning he had not been too happy about having those lessons with someone else than his father, absolutely not happy. He of course knew that it was necessary and he also wanted them because he still felt so damn stupid whenever he opened his mouth and then stuttered and murmured and was barely audible, but he would have preferred having them with his father instead of a strange professor.

Of course he understood that his father had enough on his head already, with being the head of Slytherin and the deputy headmaster now, and with teaching potions that was such a dangerous subject to begin with and with helping Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary and brewing all the potions for the infirmary and sometimes for St. Mungos too. And then there were the physical exercises the man did with him and the massages and their private lessons on math and geography and history and so many other things. He could read and write fairly well by now, but there still were so many things he had to learn and catch up about and all of this his father taught him, together with Professor McGonagall and even Professor Flitwick, but most of those lessons did Professor Snape, not to mention that the man took him outside every day and prepared so many other things and were there in the nights when he had nightmares or simply slept unwell, and so he could understand what his father had told him – he would have to take those speaking lessons with Professor Lupin because he had to take two evenings per week to overlook detentions what he could do while he was in those speaking lessons.

He didn't like it, but he did understand and so he didn't complain about it.

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Severus Snape, father of one Harry Snape, was in a rather bad mood this very evening and when the boy he was waiting for knocked on his office door he growled an angry "enter" before continuing with grading the stack of essays on his desk. Of course he would be able to grade those essays while overlooking Weasley's detention, but honestly – he just as well would be able grade them in their quarters while doing Harry's speaking lessons instead of leaving his son to Lupin.

It was true that Lupin and he had made a – truce – of some kind, but that didn't mean that he liked his son having those lessons with Lupin instead of with him. Especially since he knew how unsure Harry was in the presence of others.

On the other hand – maybe it wasn't the worst, Harry having to interact with someone else than him, Minerva and Filius – or Herbaceous. And nevertheless, he didn't like it. It might not be the worst, but it wasn't the best either. The best was if the child could be in his, Severus' presence and under his wing. What wasn't possible however because there were a few imbeciles, most of them Gryffindors, who got detention every now and then, and one of them being Weasley today – having his fifth detention with him, Snape since this school year had started three month ago.

Scowling at the boy he pointed at the corner left to the door.

"Seeing that scrubbing cauldrons does not cause you to think over your behavior and seeing that this is your fifth detention with me within three months only and for the same transgression no less – I fear that we will have to take more radical measures in this regard." He growled darkly. "Place your nose into this corner and your hands behind your back. You may think of the reason as to why you are standing there while doing so."

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"You need to speak with me, Harry." Remus Lupin said, not sure what exactly he was to do. He'd never had someone with a speaking problem before and Lily's son wasn't the most talkative child either, so far only having nodded or shaken his head except for a few mumbled "yes, sir", "no, sir" or "don't know, sir". "I cannot help you if you're not speaking with me."

"'M … 'm try-tryin'." The child said – _mumbled_ – and it was clear that Harry was not only unsure but frustrated and desperate as well as scared – a thought he didn't like at all.

"I know you do." He said, reminding himself that until a few weeks ago the boy had not spoken at all and how far he had come in his time with Severus. But Merlin! He had heard the boy speaking with his friends and he had spoken definitely more and better than he had done this evening so far. The few words the boy had spoken at him – he didn't even know where to begin.

"Alright." He said, taking a deep breath. "Why don't you tell me about those socks and your cousin?"

The boy didn't say anything, looked at him questioningly instead, as if he didn't understand.

"You did look upset about having those red socks." He clarified. "And you did look even more upset when your cousin spoke up."

He watched the boy shrugging his shoulders and averting his eyes and for a moment he thought he wouldn't get an answer again – but then the boy sighed in defeat.

"Dud-Dudley al-ways … always had … had red so-socks." The boy answered and he frowned. The boy was speaking, but he had so far spoken better when speaking with his friends.

"And why would that be a problem?" He asked.

"Cause … cause I … cause I al-always had … always had to wear … to wear his old … his old socks." Harry stammered and he nearly groaned in frustration. Not because of the boy having had to wear his cousin's old socks, what was frustrating enough to begin with, but because of the boy's words becoming even more mumbled, stuttered and incoherent. How was he to do anything with the boy's speech if the boy didn't even speak with him the way he normal would do with his friends?

"I see." He sighed. "And so you decided to change their color into green – but what was the problem with your cousin?"

"D'nno!" The boy murmured, towards his shoes actually. "Dud-Dudley … Dudley on-only … only … only wan-wanted … wanted to get … to get me … get me into … into troub-trouble!"

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He didn't know what Professor Lupin wanted of him, why he had him telling what had happened in his class. Wasn't it enough that he'd been there and watched him being unable to change back those socks? Why did he have to tell him now anything more? About Dudley, and the red socks Dudley always had worn and which he'd had to wear then, when Dudley had outgrown them. Hadn't the situation at transfiguration already embarrassing enough? Did he have to tell the Professor the reason behind his dislike of red socks? How they always had been dirty and …

**Flashback**

_"Harry?" Came Dudley's voice from behind after two unsuccessful attempts of changing the green sock back to red, his third attempt changing the green sock to red but at the same time the red sock to green instead, as if they were meant to being two-colored – and him softly cursing under his breath as a result._

_Frowning he turned in his chair again, looking back at his cousin questioningly._

_"Why … why don't you just say the incantation?" Dudley then asked, softly and nearly hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure if he could dare asking this question and Harry frowned. "Wouldn't it be easier?"_

_"Dunno." He said, still frowning. _

_"Maybe then it'd work the way it should." Dudley softly said, not looking at him but into the transfiguration book he was reading in and he, Harry, sighed._

_"Dunno." He repeated. "Just can't … just leave … leave me alone!"_

_He turned back to the front, not caring about Professor Lupin at the moment whose eyes he could feel on him again and not caring about Dudley's soft "sorry" either and surely not about Draco's "you ok?" or anything else. _

_Why couldn't he just say the incantation? Why had he to always be so stupid and so weak? And now even Dudley noticed that he couldn't do magic the way the others could! At first he'd been the freak at the Dursleys for being a wizard and Dudley had watched his uncle beating him for doing magic and now he was the freak because he wasn't even able to say an incantation out aloud and couldn't do the magic correctly the way he should like the others and again – Dudley watched him failing here as well! And Professor Snape would be very angry with him either, for getting one of his red socks green! What a rotten day so far! _

_He knew that the Professor wouldn't be too bad, not about a sock being de-colored, but the professor had paid for the sock after all because they would need it and so – well, he wouldn't like it, he was sure of that. Maybe he could hide it in his trunk or under his bed? Packing both socks into his book bag he decided that he wouldn't be able changing it back right now anyway, maybe he could try it again in the evening when he had a bit of peace._

**End flashback**

No! He surely would not tell Professor Lupin how incapable he was in doing magic! If he told Professor Snape then how incapable he was, and that he couldn't do magic the way he ought to and then … he couldn't risk this! So far his father had not noticed how utter crapish he was with magic, because his father taught potions and potions wasn't a subject where you needed magic!

"So what!" He called out, desperately. "You … you've never had dirty … dirty socks that didn't … didn't get clean anymore and … and that … and that always slipped … always slipped down and you lost them … and …"

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He hated him!

He just, and simply and absolutely hated him!

His feet hurt and his back hurt and his head hurt and his stomach growled and he was tired and his legs hurt too and his calves and his toes and his neck even! How could so many things hurt while just standing there? Not to mention that he started feeling dizzy and unwell and he wanted nothing more than leaning his forehead against the wall in front of him – this fucking boring wall that held nothing that could occupy his mind or anything! But Snape had growled at him the moment he had done so a few minutes ago and he was sure that it was well past midnight meanwhile!

Snape surely wasn't even allowed to keep him as long as he did right now and surely this letting him standing there was some kind of torture and surely Snape could be expelled for that!

Of course he knew why he stood there and he also knew that he was in real trouble meanwhile.

Not only McGonagall was on his hide and had given him a gigantic punishment, but Lupin, his new head of house too. Lupin had restricted him to his dormitory for another month actually and he had given him some titles of books he was to get from the library during this month and which he had to go through while being in his dormitory, writing another essay about bullying for Lupin, one based on the information from those books. And then Lupin had informed his parents.

And his mother really had had his hide.

The howler she had sent back then in the beginning of the term had been nothing compared to the howler she had sent him this time and she had promised him that during the Christmas holidays he would have to work instead of celebrate, that he would have to make an effort to get on her good side ever again. She had openly told him how disappointed she was in him and how upset she was about him letting her and the family down like that.

The twins weren't any better, always playing pranks on them nowadays. Well they always had done so, they did with everyone, but so far they still had talked to him, had cared 'bout him, they had apologized to him and they had hugged him from time to time when he'd needed it. But now they didn't apologize for their pranks anymore and they didn't hug him anymore either, they didn't speak to him anymore and they only looked at him angrily, as if they didn't care 'bout him anymore.

Well – and if this wasn't enough – then there were the other teachers who looked at him strangely, as if they were angry at him or disappointed, as if it were their dealings if he had trouble with another student! The Slytherins weren't punished for things like insulting the Gryffindors or for throwing things after them either, so why should the Gryffindors being punished for defending themselves against the Slytherins? It just wasn't fair!

And the most unfair of them was Snape!

He surely stood here since three or four hours now and surely Snape wasn't allowed doing this to him! And he simply wanted to turn, and he nearly would do _anything_ to get away from this corner, and he would do anything to sit down for just a few minutes and Merlin!

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"And here we go – stop!" He said, having a point where he could start.

He knew that the moment he commented the boy's statement in a way to calm him – it only would upset the boy more, as angry as it made him, and so he knew that he had to take a different approach right now, not to mention that the boy had played the cards he needed.

"You have told me a sentence that is far too long for you at the present time." He said. "It has been a sentence you could have made four sentences of. It proves that you are very intelligent and capable of eloquent language, but it does not do any good to you right now until you are surer with your voice."

The boy blinked at him in pure shock and he nearly laughed for a moment at the shocked expression on the boy's face.

"Let's start with anatomizing your sentence." He continued. "You've never had dirty socks – point. It is a statement that can stand for itself. If you wish to explain it – then do it in an extern sentence added. They never got clean anymore – point. And so you have explained your first statement, have deepened its meaning and you have done so in another short sentence. The next part – they always slipped down – point. It is a simple statement and if you feel the need to explain it or to deepen it you simply add an explanation in another sentence. You always lost them – point. Four short sentences you surely will be able handling, but they state the same as do your single one sentence that is bothering you because you get lost in it. Try it."

"I … I don't … don't know how." The boy said and he smiled.

"You have just done." He said. "You told me that you do not know how and it is a short but clear statement which I do understand."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The first ten minutes Weasley had been standing there in the corner he had felt the anger radiating off the boy, anger about being handled like a small child and having to stand in the corner. This anger had then transformed into hate during the next ten minutes, hate of Harry clearly for getting him into trouble and hate of him, Snape, for punishing him so unfairly.

Well, he knew what it meant, having to stand in a corner like this and he knew all the stages of the anger Weasley felt – including the boy's legs getting tired and starting to feel uncomfortable – in the boy's eyes starting to hurt surely – and of his mind being bored to death by the stupidity of the blank wall in front of his eyes.

During the next ten minutes he could feel the boy's anger and hate dissolving into calmness and he knew that he finally started to think – out of boredom, but he did – and normally he would have the boy leaving the corner by now, that at least was what he normally did with any student he had placed in such a corner for punishment, knowing that soon dizziness could occur, together with cramps maybe and surely he did not intend risking such.

On the other hand – he didn't want it too easy for the boy, considering that it wasn't the first time and considering that he hadn't simply called Harry names but had gone against him physically by now even, had stolen from him and had gone against the deepest weakness of the boy. Weasley either learned it now – or he learned it never, he was sure of that. And so he waited –

Until he could feel the calmness changing into desperation.

And even then, he simply waited, watching the idiot boy close, Weasley not even noticing that he was being watched, so desperate was he and he knew – the brat would do anything by now to get the chance of either moving or sitting down.

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Alright, it hadn't been so bad and when Professor Lupin left an hour later, the first thing he did was going to his room, creeping beneath his bed and lifting the pillow down there. A moment later he held a lolly in his hand, unwrapping it from the paper and then he was slowly sticking it into his mouth.

He had gotten angry at first, because he hadn't known what the Professor had wanted of him, hadn't understood what he was to do, and as scared as he had been he had been angry because he had thought that Professor Lupin had wanted to make clear to him that he couldn't do magic or at least not the way he ought to. And he had thought that maybe the Professor had wanted to humiliate him about it and about Dudley and the old socks he'd always had to wear at the Dursleys and … but then he had understood when the Professor had told him to make smaller sentences and to make a point, to take the point to have a focus.

It really had helped and he had made less mistakes and in the end they even had laughed at some of the mistakes he still _had_ made while speaking and then he even had made less mistakes again.

And then, after Professor Lupin had gone, he had remembered the sweets Professor Snape had bought him during their last visit to Diagon Alley.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The Potions Master, Severus Snape, went down the corridor and through the door that led to his quarters, tired but satisfied.

Weasley had been standing there, sobbing in the end after he had finally allowed him to turn, had him sitting in the chair opposite his desk, and the red head had promised him anything, had promised him that he never would bully Harry again and that he would behave. He was sure that if he had asked the idiot boy to do better in potions then he would have promised this as well.

Shaking his head he opened the door to his quarters and then stepped inside – a moment later he winced at the sound of music coming from his son's room and he took a deep breath during which he tried to make out the music instruments that were playing. He could make out drums, a guitar, a piano and something else he didn't know what to make of it and releasing his breath he went over to the boy's room, peering inside the open room.

The next moment he couldn't help chuckling at the sight of his son, laying on his stomach halfway beneath his bed, his head hidden and his feet dangling in the air while he surely had one of those blasted music playing lollipops in his mouth, seeing that he had music coming from beneath his bed and therefore surely from his ears. So – there had Harry hidden the candies from their last visit to Diagon Alley! He should have known.

"Good evening, Harry." He said, gaining an "ouch" from the boy who had hit his head on the underside of the bed in his hurry to scramble forth before the black haired head emerged a moment later – with a lollipop in his mouth. "I take it that Professor Lupin's speaking lesson has gone well?"

"Yes, sir." The boy answered quickly taking the lollipop out of his mouth, he noticed and he once more was pleased about the boy's display of manners, even if he wondered wherefrom the child had learned them, seeing that the Dursley surely had not bothered showing any manners and especially not teaching them to Harry, they had been busy with teaching the boy other things.

"It stops." The boy gasped, looking at the lollipop that had stopped playing music the moment he had taken it out of his mouth and the Potions Master shook his head.

"No, it does not." He said while taking the boy's shoulders and seating him onto the desk in his room. "But seeing that it has no access to the resonator that is your mouth, throat and part of your head – your ears that in this case are your speakers won't work the way they need to play the music."

"But … but my head is … is not hol-hollow …" The boy said and he smirked while he pulled off the boy's socks.

"From what I have heard just a moment ago – it is very hollow, seeing that your music sounded very loud through these chambers." He said, pulling the boy's arms out of the sleeves of his shirt. "I suggest you get comfortable and then we have a late snack before bed. You also have to put your boot outside the door seeing that tomorrow is St. Nicholas' Day."

"St. Nicholas won't … won't come here … won't come here though." The boy said, matter of factly and not even looking up from slipping into the pyjama top he had reached the boy, not even looking startled at his suggestion.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." He softly said, placing the tips of his fingers beneath the child's chin and pulling the pale face up to look at him. "Just put it outside the door."

The only answer he got this time was the boy shrugging his shoulders while averting his eyes, despite his face being lifted by his fingers and he sighed but decided to let it be for now. The boy would learn another lesson tomorrow morning and that would have to do for now.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_A boot with sweets, nuts and apples and a Weasley with quill, ink and parchment_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …


	68. shoes, snowmen and a hiding place

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well … I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings … J. K. Rowling owns them all … I just borrow them a bit …

Uhm … and well … sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts … I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this … I at least promise to try …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before … thank you … and yes … I would be glad to receive more responses … and then I'd like to say – sorry for any mistakes in the story as English is not my language by birth … you however may keep them, the mistakes I mean, all of them …

**Added author's note: **

I do know that in Britain something like a boot placed outside the door on St. Nicholas' Day is not common, but I decided to use this nevertheless because the day I have started with this particular subject – December, 6th – and therefore St. Nicholas' Day – my children have put their boots in front of the door. I have filled them during the night, like always and it was as much fun for me doing this as was for the children to get their boots in the morning. I do hope that you won't kill me for this …

also, I do apologize for the months without a review here, but I really had other things at hand – and still have – thank writing chapters. During the past months I at least had the NaNo-story so that you had anything to read at all. This one is finished now, and so I'm back to regular writings … well, I hope you will still enjoy this one, and I hope that you won't kill me … thanks for your understanding …

Here too, I invite all you readers to partake in the house cup – just state your house in each review you are giving, never mind in which story, and I will add it to your house. The actual points will be listed at the end of any chapters …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help … there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"No, it does not." He said while taking the boy's shoulders and seating him onto the desk in his room. "But seeing that it has no access to the resonator that is your mouth, throat and part of your head – your ears that in this case are your speakers won't work the way they need to play the music."_

_"But … but my head is … is not hol-hollow …" The boy said and he smirked while he pulled off the boy's socks. _

_"From what I have heard just a moment ago – it is very hollow, seeing that your music sounded very loud through these chambers." He said, pulling the boy's arms out of the sleeves of his shirt. "I suggest you get comfortable and then we have a late snack before bed. You also have to put your boot outside the door seeing that tomorrow is St. Nicholas' Day." _

_"St. Nicholas won't … won't come here … won't come here though." The boy said, matter of factly and not even looking up from slipping into the pyjama top he had reached the boy, not even looking startled at his suggestion. _

_"I wouldn't be so sure about that." He softly said, placing the tips of his fingers beneath the child's chin and pulling the pale face up to look at him. "Just put it outside the door."_

_The only answer he got this time was the boy shrugging his shoulders while averting his eyes, despite his face being lifted by his fingers and he sighed but decided to let it be for now. The boy would learn another lesson tomorrow morning and that would have to do for now. _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter sixty-eight**

**Shoes, snowmen and a hiding place**

Slowly and silently pushing the door to Harry's room open, Severus peered inside the nursery that didn't really _look_ like the room of any eleven year old boy he knew. There were no posters of Quidditch teams on the walls and there were no clothes, Quidditch magazines, building pieces and other things any eleven year old student of Hogwarts would play with scattered about the room.

The room for one was very tidy, a few books were sorted into a shelf, the boy's dragons were standing in another one and the goblin stones were on the playing field on the desk – beside a half finished essay he recognized as the potions essay they were to write – while the teddy bear he had given to the child weeks ago was in Harry's arms, only the tip of its head being visible from beneath the blanket. No, this room rather looked like a mixture of the room that belonged to an older and more responsible student, able to learn and keep his room clean, and a children's room from a very young child, a five or six year old maybe.

It was a room as strange as the child itself was. And the child … _'face it, Severus Snape, your son is handicapped.'_ A small voice in the back of his mind said and he knew that – to some point, it was true. The child needed help with so many thing that were normal to other children, was still so quickly tiring, unable to partake in his afternoon classes still, was scared out of his pants by so many things other children would enjoy, and sometimes – he even had to assist the child in things like dressing, undressing, eating and communication.

But for now, the child was sleeping, and he was sleeping peacefully.

Smirking in satisfaction the Potions Master pulled his head back and then sneaked over to the entrance door, opened it just as silently and grabbed the boot Harry had placed there before he had gone to bed – upon his suggestion – even if the child had done so reluctantly only, not really believing that he would find anything. He then went into the kitchen where he took a chair from the table and placed the boot atop. He opened the shoe laces as wide as possible without actually pulling them out of the loops, frowning about how small the boot was and wondering how he was supposed to get enough of the sweets and fruits inside such a small boot, but then he started to fill it with a tangerine first, before laying the orange aside and adding another tangerine instead, knowing that the boy loved them, actually would die for them, and then he put in an apple and a few nuts too. He added a few chocolate snowmen that waved happily at him, causing him to scowl at those blasted imbeciles, and then he stuffed in a chocolate Santa Clause too.

He put a riddle atop all of that, a metal octagon that had to be separated into two pieces, hoping that the child would be occupied for at least two or three days with trying to solve it. At least it had taken Harry three days to solve the last one he had gotten him, three days, where other teens and adults needed weeks and weeks and then only stumbling over the solution accidentally merely than finding out how to solve the puzzle logically.

After that he placed the boy's boot back in front of the door to his quarters.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

The next morning came and Severus started breakfast.

It was Friday and so Harry and he both would have breakfast together in his quarters before he would take the child to the great hall where he would meet with Draco and Theodore who would go with him to his classes. Charms and defense, and then they were free for the weekend, both of them, Harry as well as Severus.

He had planned on taking the child to the gardens after classes to plant another tree.

He had watched the boy looking at the weeping willow longingly and he had decided to have Harry plant a tree in the garden by his own, today, on the sixth of December. It was St. Nicholas today, for the muggles a simple name day of Saint Nicholas, the bishop of Myra, but in the wizarding community it also was a day that promised great strength and power if it was born of kindness and sympathy, understanding – even if it was a tree, planted in the midst of winter, and he knew that anything Harry would plant, he would do with kindness and understanding.

And he would have Harry planting an oak, an English black oak, a strong and powerful tree that would grow tall and strong, while giving comfort and a means of safety to the child as well as the tree itself would get the same things from the boy – _after_ Harry would learn today that he too was to get something in his boot as well as any other wizarding child.

Said boy just came out of his room, looking strangely disheveled and distraught, but he didn't say anything except of a "good morning, sir" before helping in laying the table for the two of them before unsurely looking around for anything else to do.

"Good morning, Harry." He answered before halting in his movement and then frowning at the child. "What is wrong, child?" He then asked, knowing that something _was_ wrong. The boy looked _really_ upset about something and he tried to think of anything that could have gone wrong while taking a shower and dressing – he didn't find an answer.

"I …" The boy started after giving away a suffering sigh. "I have … I have lost one … one of my … one of my shoes, sir." Harry said, looking down guiltily while he stood there in his new shoes he had bought him two weeks ago. Harry hadn't been wearing them except for being outside, like he had promised he would during the cold days where it could be slippery, but the first time he had come home with them after wearing them for herbology, he had thrown them into a corner of his room angrily, and he had been even more reluctant to wear them since. He was wearing them _now_ however.

"I … I'm sorry, sir." The boy said upon his frown, taking a step backwards. "I didn't mean to … I'm sure I can …"

"Stop, Harry." He softly said. "Do you not remember? It is St. Nicholas Day and maybe you should have a look outdoors."

The boy frowned at him, looking at the entrance door to their quarters and then there was recognition in the child's green eyes that grew large for a split second before the child averted them – and it was clear that he didn't believe he would find anything except of an empty boot.

"Well?" He asked, lifting his eyebrow at his son. "What are you waiting for? Go and have a look!"

Hesitantly Harry went to the entrance door of their quarters, looking back at him unsurely before placing his hand onto the handle, looking back at him again, hesitantly, before he actually opened the door, peering out. He actually could see the child going rigid before he threw the door shut with a startled yelp, standing there and leaning his back against the door, breathing heavily and slowly looking over at him with large eyes.

He nearly laughed.

The boy actually looked as if he had seen a ghost, a dangerous and terrifying ghost.

"What is it, Harry?" He asked, his eyebrow lifted.

"There … there's my … my missing shoe." The boy said, turning and looking back at the door.

"Well, then I suggest you get it?" Severus tried to help out as it was clear – the boy was clearly overburdened with the situation.

"But … but there's something … something in it!" The boy gasped, his green eyes startling large.

"Well, I thought that was the intent of placing it outside the door last night?" He said, trying to sound as calm and as collected as always instead of sounding like a fool that was emotional after seeing his son so emotional. "I guess that St. Nicholas has been here to fill your boot and I suggest you get it."

"But … but I never … only _Dudley_ would get something in his boot! I …"

"Just get it, Harry." He said, nearly sighing.

"But it surely … it surely can't be mine?" The child asked with large eyes and it was clear – Harry needed his actual help here, not only helpful words.

"Open the door, Harry." He said, walking over to Harry and looking down at the child, prompting him to do what he had asked of him.

The boy looked up at him, questioningly, as if he wanted to ask if he was really sure.

"Is this your boot, Harry?" The Potions Master then asked when Harry had done so, had opened the door again, looking down at the boot unbelievingly.

"Yes, sir." The child said, whispered, barely daring to breathe and the green eyes were not moving an inch away from the boot filled with sweets and tangerines.

"You are absolutely sure that this is your boot?" He asked, just so that Harry would see – there couldn't be a mistake.

The boy looked closer.

"Yes, sir." He then said.

"This is the very boot you have put outside the door last night?" He asked and again the boy answered with a "yes, sir" and a nod of his head.

"Well, then seeing that this is your boot, and seeing that you have placed it outside last night and last but not least, seeing that you are the only child currently living here within these quarters – I guess that indeed St Nicholas has been visiting you and that this boot's content is yours just as well." He sighed, placing his hand atop the child's head, carding his fingers through the soft black hair for a moment to calm the child that was close to choking on his own breath. "So I suggest that you take it inside."

Kneeling down his son did as he had asked of him, taking the boot, nearly carefully, looking down the corridor for a moment and he could see that the small hands moved towards the fill, small fingers already touching the happily waving chocolate snowmen and the winking chocolate Santa Clause to look over what else he might find in his boot, in the midst of the corridor, before he stopped them, got up and – again – the boy looked up at him, the green eyes large and questioningly, before the child stepped past him and back into their quarters.

The boy carried his boot into the kitchen and he, Severus pointed at one of the free chairs.

He knew that it wasn't a question of Harry believing in St. Nicholas, Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny, in the Tooth Fairy or any other such thing. No, it was a question of Harry for the first time learning that he was not a bad child, that he was a good child that – like any other child – deserved being visited by either of those – _persons_.

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He barely could believe it!

At first he had forgotten about the boot he had put outside last night, because he never had done so before and because he hadn't believed that he would get anything anyway, knowing that he would find an empty shoe like always with the Dursleys, and for a moment he really had thought that he would be in a lot of trouble now. Who would loose a shoe after all?

Well, it wasn't that he had no shoes left, he had his new boots and for a moment he even had considered keeping the lost shoe secret from the Professor, but only for a moment. It wasn't a piece of paper he had lost after all and it wasn't even a sock he had lost or any other not so expensive things. It's been a shoe! And shoes were _very_ expensive. He remembered that the Professor had paid a very lot of money for those shoes actually. Not that he had known back then how much all this money had been, but he knew now, after having had his first conversations with Draco and Theodore about how much one or another thing of their toys and games might cost and after he had gotten a weekly allowance from his father.

However, he had put on his new boots, but he didn't like them.

He never had liked them.

The others had been plain black. They had been comfortable and they had been soft while at the same time they had felt secure. But most of all, they had been plain black and so they had matched perfectly with his trousers and his cloak.

Not that he thought fashion important, but with those new boots, with the bright colorful sole and the bright colorful laces, he would be spotted thousand miles against the wind, or something like that.

Well, yes. The Professor had exchanged the bright colorful shoe laces for plain black ones and so those new shoes _nearly_ looked like his old ones, but only nearly. One could see that the sole was bright colorful even if he was only standing there, not moving, and the other children would _see_ him! And they weren't as comfortable as the others had been, didn't feel as secure – _he_ didn't feel secured while wearing them. He felt as if he might stumble and fall every other step he did with them. They felt chunky and they felt clunky.

However, of course he had remembered, after Professor Snape had reminded him that his missing boot might be outside. He hadn't been sure if he really wanted to look, but the Professor – his father – he really had insisted and so he had obeyed – to find a filled boot outside!

And of course he then first had thought that it surely must have been a mistake from St. Nicholas. He either had mistaken him for a different child or he had thought it might be Dudley's boot. But again, Professor Sn- … his father, had brought up his ever present logic and had explained to him that – it surely must have been filled for him, Harry as _he_ had put the shoe outside and as it was _his_ boot.

For a moment he knelt there on the dungeons corridor, hardly able to believe what he was seeing and he couldn't help touching the funny, little snowmen that were waving at him happily, and for another moment he couldn't help wishing to, right here and now, searching through all the things he might find in his boot.

Did this mean that St. Nicholas now knew – he was not a bad child?

Dudley had always had a lot of chocolate in his boot, and a computer game or a game for the Nintendo or something like that. Surely he wouldn't be so lucky to get even toys, he hadn't even thought that he would find _anything_ at all! But he _might_ have hoped for a bit of chocolate there. He surely wouldn't wish for as much chocolate as Dudley had always gotten, he didn't want to become as fat as Dudley after all, but a bit, just a bit of chocolate surely would be enough. And now he _had_ a bit of chocolate and he would like to try it right now, but then he pulled his hand back. Surely it wouldn't be appropriate if he looked through his boot right here in the corridor, in front of the Professor's quarters! Professor Snape was not only the Potions Master, he was the head of Slytherin too, and the deputy headmaster!

Spotting a small metal object his heart nearly skipped a beat.

Was this another one of those riddles like the one he had gotten from his father for doing so well in his physical exercises they were doing every evening still? He really had tried very hard to do them, because they weren't easy and they still hurt his joints and his muscles, but he wanted to make things right for his father.

Getting off the floor and carrying the boot inside he wondered how St. Nicholas had known that he loved those riddles!

"Put it onto the chair, Harry." His father said. "I expect you to eat breakfast first before you indulge in those sweets."

Placing the shoe onto a chair in the kitchen he sat down for breakfast, barely able to keep his eyes from the chair while he had breakfast.

He had gotten something in his boot!

St. Nicholas had brought him something, for the first time.

Well, yes. He was eleven and somehow he – _knew_ – that St. Nicholas surely wouldn't go from door to door to fill children's boots! And he also knew that it therefore had to be the adults who were filling them, right? But while he had thought that it had been so horrible in the past, when he had believed in St. Nicholas and Santa Clause, believing that it was really horrible that even they knew how bad he was. But now he wasn't so sure about that, he wasn't sure if it wasn't more horrible that aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon always had filled Dudley's boots but not his.

But then – _if_ St. Nicholas did fill their boots, and if he had known how bad he was – surely that meant that he wasn't bad anymore now? Or maybe the wizards had a different St. Nicholas than the muggles? One that would give freak children sweets but not normal children?

Oh, he didn't know!

Watching the child this morning had been very interesting, the boy being far more interested in watching his boot than in eating his breakfast – understandably. After that the boy had taken the boot – after he had cast another unsure glance at him – and taken it to his room, and he was sure that he would hide the sweets beneath his bed together with the others he had bought the child at Diagon Alley two weeks ago. Frowning he took a deep breath and then got off the kitchen table himself.

He would have to owl Gladrag's.

He had noticed last night when he had filled the child's boot that the soles from the boy's shoes were worn away on the outsides already again, despite Gladrag having repaired them two weeks ago. He just would order new shoes and he would ask Gladrag to make the same shoes than those first boots the boy had gotten. Only Merlin knew why he didn't like the others. They were practically the same, except of a few things – like color.

However, he would ask Gladrag to add an orthotic insert and maybe he could correct the boy's way of walking.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"And I really … really got some-something in my boot." Harry whispered into his ear and he cast a quick glance at Professor Flitwick.

"I got something too." He answered, just as softly while leaning over to the dark haired boy a bit, his eyes still on the professor, who was floating himself up to the front while explaining how to summon small things like clothes – clothes again! Why did they always have to work with the same things in transfiguration and charms? They had been working on writing utensils in transfiguration, changing their quills into feathers, and they were working on writing utensils in charms too, learning how to levitate them. And now they were working with clothes in transfiguration, changing their color and in charms too, summoning them.

"But it's the … it's the very first time … the first time I got something in it." Harry whispered back and he frowned. Why would it be that Harry …

But then, well – yes. Considering that Harry had _not_ gotten enough to eat generally while living with his aunt and uncle, and from what else he had learned about them, he didn't have to wonder.

Leaning back in his chair the moment Flitwick had his back on them to write on the board, and tilting it backwards a bit until the front legs were in the air he turned his head slightly.

"Did _you_ get something in your boots before Hogwarts, Dursley?" He asked, already knowing the answer.  
Dursley looked up at him from his notes, looking at Harry for a long moment before he looked back at him.

"Yes." The other boy then said, softly, before averting his eyes.

"I thought so." He growled. "Well, and what did you get?" He then softly asked, leaning back to Harry. The students' shoes were filled by the house elves, he knew that, he wasn't stupid after all, but seeing that Harry had not been in his dormitory but in Severus' quarters – he was sure that Severus had filled Harry's boot.

"Tang-tangerines! I love them!" Harry said, smiling enthusiastically. "And … and chocolate snow-snowmen that … that waved at me and … and a choc-chocolate Santa Clause that … that winked at me … and … well …"

"Well?" He asked, looking up at Flitwick who turned back to the class, to the Gryffindor side of the class. There seemed to be something Harry didn't want to tell him and he was curious.

"Well …" Harry slowly repeated after him and he rolled his eyes. "There … there's been a … a riddle in it … too." Harry then said and he frowned.

"Which one?" He then asked. He'd been visiting uncle Severus during the past few years in his Christmas holidays and he'd always had one in his boot back then.

"Dunno … it … it has … it has eight angles and …"

"Then it is an octagon, Mr. Snape, but please do pay attention in my class." Flitwick was there suddenly, startling Harry out of his pants and he rolled his eyes again. As if Slytherin hadn't lost points before.

"I've solved this one already." He whispered the moment Flitwick was back at the Gryffindor side of the classroom. "Wanna me telling you how to open it?"

Harry only shook his head without giving him an answer and if he didn't know that the other boy was just too scared of what would happen if he disobeyed, then he would have called him a teacher's pet, but well, he knew what Harry feared and so he left the other boy alone and went back to his own work.

Filius Flitwick inwardly shook his head.

What did Harry expect? That he would beat him? Merlin! He wasn't taller than the boy himself, not to mention that Harry was his godson, for Merlin's sake! And - he never had laid a hand on a student and he surely would not start doing so now.

Correcting a wand movement from one of the Gryffindor children, Mr. Weasley, he wondered why Severus would add a puzzle to the boy's boot. Or might he have filled it himself to begin with? Harry didn't live in his dorm after all but in Severus' quarters.

How was it that Severus had asked _him_ for being the boy's godfather to begin with anyway? It wasn't as if Severus and he had been the best of friends in the past. He, Filius, he had – sort of at least – feared Severus, had despised the man for being a Death Eater while Severus had despised him, Filius, for being a normal, small and weak teacher.

Oh, he knew that Severus had not thought of him as a coward, but he had thought of him as weak.

How had this changed?

Three months ago Severus absolutely _never_ would have appointed him a godfather for his son! But on the other hand, three months ago the Potions Master would have killed anyone who had claimed he were a father either.

Sighing he cast another glance at the now quiet child.

He knew how much trust the Potions Master was placing in him, and he only could hope that he would not disappoint the man.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Yes, he had known that Harry would hide his sweets beneath his bed, he thought while he leaned with his shoulder against the doorframe to his son's room, the boy halfway laying beneath his bed and only his feet being visible – a sight he saw not for the first time these days.

They'd had lunch in the kitchen and then he had taken Harry outside to plant the tree together with the boy – and it had been an afternoon during which he had taken more than one picture, he, Severus Snape, taking pictures of a child while laughing and simply being happy by watching the child – something he never had thought possible.

**Flashback**

_"See?" The boy said, showing him his boot where he had tied his shoe laces – and all by himself! _

_Shaking his head he knelt down in front of his son and took a look, making sure that the shoes were sitting securely on the child's feet. He'd had the boy tying his shoe laces since two weeks now but he nevertheless checked them before allowing the boy out. _

_It was idiotic, or at least it was nothing that other parents of an eleven year old boy would do, he knew that – but he also knew that Harry's ankles were still so very fragile – he didn't wish to take any risks. The child was working hard on his physical exercises and he did not wish that this work was for nothing just because risking a sprained ankle. He rather acted like an idiotic mother hen instead of taking any risks. Not to mention that – yes, the child was tying his shoe laces alone since two weeks now, but the tying was far from keeping the shoe really closed as the boy's fingers not only didn't manage the knot correctly, but they also were too weak to really tighten the laces.  
_

_"Yes, that is well done, Harry." He nevertheless said, running his fingers along the seam of the shoe and his son's ankle because he knew that it was the best the child was doing. "You are becoming skilled in tying your laces."_

_"You said … you said there's even more snow in the garden than … than I've seen … than I've seen in the front yard." Harry said, and he could hear a mixture of excitement and fear in the boy's voice. Looking up he tried to study the boy's face. _

_Harry hadn't said anything and so he didn't know exactly if there were any bad memories when it came to snow or not and so he only could depend on his common sense and his instincts, but knowing the Dursleys, there most likely was one thing or another when it came to this regard. He didn't like it that he always had to try and analyze the child in order to prevent any more hurt because of simple and normal things like – speaking, reading or writing, family, classes, eating, sleeping, shoes, shopping, teddy bears – and so many other things that he didn't even know where to begin with. _

_Of course he normally would say that any child growing up would go through a bit of hurt and fears in the process, that it was normal and surely would not harm the child but prepare it for real life – but Harry was no normal child and the boy had surely had enough hurt and fears – pain and terror actually – in his life, he didn't need any more of that. Not to mention that now it was really time that the child learned the better things in life, those he should have learned years ago, like what it felt like being loved and cared for, what feeling safe was like and what it meant to be important to someone, protected by someone. The boy should have learned those things years ago, but he hadn't, and so he had to learn this now._

_He would be destroyed forever if he wouldn't teach him those things now. And so – well, he would have to analyze the child at every turn he took with the boy. _

_"The back yard is on the weather side of the castle and so yes, there will be more snow than you have seen in the front yards this morning." He answered, taking a heavy winter cloak and placing it on the child's shoulders. "Slip into the sleeves, Harry." He then said. "There is a nasty wind today and so it really is cold outside. You will need your scarf, gloves and a warm hat."_

_There was a slight shiver that ran through the child's body and he narrowed his eyes. _

**End flashback**

A few minutes later they had been outside and in snow, the boy first standing there, stiffly and unsure, as if waiting for something to happen, but then he seemed to relax, working his way carefully through the snow covered area. Fifteen minutes later they even had started building a snowman after Harry had told him that he never had built one. Harry had been exceptionally happy about the wizard's hat he had conjured and then had given the boy to place it atop the snowman's head.

After that Harry had been standing there, jumping up and down for a moment and clapping his hands excitedly, looking up at him as if to ask – and what will we do now?

He hadn't had the boy doing anything after half an hour of building the snowman in the cold storm that was gathering power even, because the moment the boy had looked up at him and he had seen the tears the cold wind had caused – he had taken the child back inside – with the promise to have the child back in the garden as soon as possible.

Harry had asked him if they would go outside the next day, but he had told him that he didn't know. There was a storm coming in and he just had to look up into the sky to know that it would be a dangerous storm. No weather to go outside with a child.

"Look at the ceiling, Harry." He said while holding open the boy's eyelid with his thumb and then he let a drop of the potion he had brewed shortly after his last visit at the oculist into Harry's eye. He knew that the boy didn't like them, but he also knew that it was necessary if he wanted to keep the boy from becoming blind entirely. His eyesight was bad enough as it was.

**Flashback**

_"You wished to talk to me in private, what is wrong with my son's eyes?" He asked the moment Anson entered the small room, getting straight to the point and reason of his visit. _

_"Straight to the point, like always." Anson said, sighing, but then he took a seat behind his desk and took the boy's file. "Well, my medical scans have shown that there have been a few concussions during the past twelve months."_

_"Yes, that is correct." Severus said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms in front of his chest. He knew where this was going and he didn't like it. _

_"Don't start this, Professor!" Anson shook his head and he scowled at the man. "I know that you haven't had any children until at least June and so I know that it's not been you causing the concussions. You therefore can stop preparing for defending yourself. I just would like to know what happened because there is a head trauma and a brain damage in the occipital cortex region."_

_"What means?" He shortly asked while scowling at the man to hide his uneasiness at Anson's words. Merlin, if what he feared could come true … didn't the boy have enough on his plate already? _

_"Well, it means that Harry could become blind – or partially blind – as long as the damage is there." Anson said. "We need to heal this region and we need to do this soon."_

_"How soon?" He asked, his scowl deepening. This had not been the answer he had wished for. _

_"Within the next few weeks." Anson said and he nodded. "It's been already too long. Not to mention that his eyesight only could get better after this region is healed, maybe, but at least it won't worsen. Your son can be lucky that he has not become blind long ago."_

_"And what is the other bad news?" He asked, his eyes narrowed at the oculist. The man looked too worried still, as if he hadn't told him all so far. _

_"Well." Anson sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I have a question first, because I am not really sure. It is a strange thing I cannot really explain."_

_"Your question, Healer Anson?" He growled, narrowing his eyes at the nervously babbling man, something that worried him immense, the man babbling like this, it was a proof of how nervous he seemed._

_"Well, do you know if Harry's eyes have come in contact with any acid stuff?" Anson asked and he frowned, his worry increasing._

_"Not to my knowledge." He answered, calmly. "But one can never know with this child, as I said, he has been living with his aunt and uncle and in the beginning I daily learned of new horrors while even now I learn of new horrors nearly weekly still."_

_"I see." The older wizard said, blue eyes looking sad. "Well, the strange thing is, there is no chemical burn around your son's eyes, and so I don't think that his eyes have come in direct contact with any acid stuff, but his optic nerves nevertheless are damaged by chemical burns, as if he had lived in a place close with acid and poisonous stuff, and for a long time."_

_"The cupboard." He groaned out, running his hand tiredly over his face. "I really wonder if there ever will be an end."_

_"Professor?" Anson asked and he sighed, feeling tired. _

_"Harry's aunt and uncle have kept him in a cupboard together with cleaning agents and other acid and poisonous stuff." He said. "He lived in this cupboard for ten years while his uncle sometimes even closed the slits for the air conditioner, only letting the child out for using him as a slave in their household."_

**End flashback**

Well, and again the child had to pay a price too high for what the Dursleys had done to him, an innocent child, a price that in his opinion was too high. Namely either using eye drops, and for the remainder of his life, or risking getting blind, and in a future not too far away.

"Dad?" The boy's soft voice made him looking down at the child, startled at the use of the word 'dad' instead of 'sir' or 'professor', and for a short moment he narrowed his eyes at his son, wondering if he was at the end of his rope because of one reason or another, or if he was just – something else.

"Yes, Harry?" He asked, his dark eyes still on the child that looked up at him seriously.

"Just thanks." The boy softly said and he frowned.

"Whatever for?" He asked, already knowing the reason, but he wanted to hear it from the child him self.

"For having me." The boy said and he sighed, placing the small vial with the eye drops at the table and pulling his son close.

And here he once had thought that this child would be an ungrateful, spoiled and arrogant bully! This child was far from all those things.

"There is no need to thank me for that, child." He softly growled. "It is I who should thank you, for so easily accepting me, an old and grumpy teacher, as your father in your life."

A moment later the boy got up and darted towards his room, not even bothering with closing the door, but he didn't have to go looking after him, he knew that he had gone to his special hiding place, that he had darted beneath his bed, because he, Severus Snape, his father, he had said something nice to him, had said that he was thanking him, and again, it had been too much to bear for the child, the knowledge that he was loved so much here while he had been hated so much in his past life, unable to understand.

A special hiding place, that was a shelter for his child, that provided his child with a sense of safety, something he had lacked for nearly his entire life, and he didn't regret having made this special hiding place more comfortable, even if he knew that most likely the child would fall asleep down there before the night, even if he knew that he would have to pull the sleeping child from under that bed later, to get him to bed.

It didn't matter, because his son had a special hiding place, like any other child too.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_A competition and a school play_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …

**House Cup:**

Here too, I invite all you readers to partake in the house cup – just state your house in each review you are giving, never mind on which story, and I will add them to your house. The actual points will be listed at the end of any chapters …

At the present time it looks like this:

353 Points - Slytherin

276 Points - Ravenclaw

223 Points - Gryffindor

159 Points - Hufflepuff


	69. words and socks

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well … I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings … J. K. Rowling owns them all … I just borrow them a bit …

Uhm … and well … sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts … I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this … I at least promise to try …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before … thank you … and yes … I would be glad to receive more responses … and then I'd like to say – sorry for any mistakes in the story as English is not my language by birth … you however may keep them, the mistakes I mean, all of them …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help … there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"There is no need to thank me for that, child." He softly growled. "It is I who should thank you, for so easily accepting me, an old and grumpy teacher, as your father in your life."_

_A moment later the boy got up and darted towards his room, not even bothering with closing the door, but he didn't have to go looking after him, he knew that he had gone to his special hiding place, that he had darted beneath his bed, because he, Severus Snape, his father, he had said something nice to him, had said that he was thanking him, and again, it had been too much to bear for the child, the knowledge that he was loved so much here while he had been hated so much in his past life, unable to understand. _

_A special hiding place, that was a shelter for his child, that provided his child with a sense of safety, something he had lacked for nearly his entire life, and he didn't regret having made this special hiding place more comfortable, even if he knew that most likely the child would fall asleep down there before the night, even if he knew that he would have to pull the sleeping child from under that bed later, to get him to bed. _

_It didn't matter, because his son had a special hiding place, like any other child too. _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter sixty-nine**

**Words and socks**

Frowning he enlisted the last names in his scheduler, knowing that he wouldn't have to wait for the five missing letters as they wouldn't come back, they never came back.

It was nearing Christmas, and he always held two parent-teacher conferences during the year. One shortly before Christmas, and the second shortly before the summer holidays, and a few days ago he had handed out the invitations to all his Slytherins with the request that they sent them home to their parents.

Well, twenty-one of the sixty-three invitations he had handed out had been send back with a positive answer, mostly from the parents of the first and second years, thirty-seven had sent the invitations back with an X at "I am unable to meet you at your date proposal" and their signature, and five parents hadn't even answered – and he had known that they wouldn't, they never did.

In the beginning he had sent out second invitations with new date proposals for those who were unable taking them, and he had sent out second invitations to those who had not sent them back too, but with the years had had given up doing so, having learned that they never were able meeting him, never mind if he gave them ten different date proposals. If the parents really wanted a parent–teacher conversation then they would take the time, if they didn't take the time, they only showed their disinterest in their children, sad but true.

Well, even though it were only twenty-one parents he would meet, the next three days would be rather eventful and he still had not prepared Harry for his absence during these days.

Sighing he got off the armchair behind his desk and went towards his son's room.

The boy was kneeling on the armchair in front of his own desk, like he always did when sitting there, bent over a piece of parchment and nibbling at his fingernails, concentrating onto his writing, and with a frown he knocked at the doorframe.

It was nearly funny, how quickly the boy turned his piece of paper and then turned in his seat, startled, guilt even being visible in the always so pale face.

"Fingernails isn't the most healthiest of food, Harry." He said while entering the room. "What are you composing there?"

"It's … it's the com- … it's the compe-competition." The boy said, nervously. "And … and you- … you're not … you're not s'pposd … s'pposed to … to read … to read it … to read it yet."

Well, if the child's large eyes were not an indication of how startled he was, and how scared, sure that he now would get into trouble because he did something _'forbidden'_, at least his nearly incomprehensible stuttering was.

"I know." He said, smiling and slowly reaching out his hand to run it over the pale forehead, ignoring the flinch the child gave away in his fear. "How is the progress?"

"You … you know … know about it?" The boy asked, his green eyes large at him, nearly begging him with his eyes to say yes so that he wouldn't have to fear he, Severus, could think he was lying to him.

"I am a teacher at this school here, Harry, not to mention a head of a house and the deputy headmaster, of course I know about the competition, child." He said, taking the teddy bear from the other armchair beside the boy's desk and then sitting down into the now free space, his dark eyes scanning the stuffed animal, remembering how it had come into his son's possession. "There is a competition at Hogwarts every year, and every year the students are playing hide and seek with their notes until the deadline is over, what will be tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Yes." The boy nodded, visibly relieved and there even was a small smile on the pale face, on the much too pale face for his liking. The moment this competition was over he would have Harry sleeping as much as possible for at least one weekend.

"So, how _is_ the progress?" He asked, not voicing his concerns.

"'M nearly … nearly finished." Harry seriously answered. "Just … just two lines … and … and I even have drawn a picture."

"What were the given words this time?" He asked, knowing well what the given words had been, but he wanted to make it clear that he knew what was to do in the competition and that he still was interested in what his son did even if the boy had turned the paper, that he didn't feel offended by the act.

"We're to use ex-exactly … exactly five … five hundred and five words and … and we're given five … we're given five words: books, future, friend, choice and side. And it has to be a rhyme." The boy answered and he couldn't help the corner of his mouth twitching upwards traitorously at the seriousness of the child, as if this competition were the most important thing in the world. "I … I've never … never par-partaken in … in a competition." The boy then said, as if he had read his thoughts. "Dud-Dudley has, but … but never … but never me, and … and … dunno …"

"And now you wish doing well in this." He said, his eyes fixing the child and suddenly he knew why the boy looked so tired and pale. "I am sure that you did give your best with this, Harry, and that is all that is important. I do not care if you win this competition or if you lose it, as long as you give it your best effort."

The boy nodded at him, again looking relieved, even not relieved enough for his liking. But he knew that most likely Harry only then would start relaxing when this bloody competition was over, tomorrow.

"There is another thing I wanted to discuss with you, Harry." He then said, watching the child placing his quill at the desk and giving him his entire attention, green eyes becoming warily. "You know that I have handed out the invitations for the parent-teacher conferences, and now I have gotten most of them back. I just wanted to inform you that during the next three days, started by tomorrow afternoon, I will rarely be here as they are held in my office."

"Ok." The boy said, looking at him thoughtfully.

"I will have Zilly preparing an afternoon snack for you during this time and I will back in the evenings for dinner. Would you like me appointing Minerva or Filius to visit you on those days?" He asked, not sure what the boy had on his mind, not really liking the thoughtful look.

"No, sir." Harry immediately shook his head. "I … I'll manage … I've … I've been alone with … at Privet Drive too … and longer … and they …"

"They what?" He asked when the child didn't continue.

"They didn't … they didn't tell me." Harry softly answered, averting his eyes. "And they … they didn't left food either … or … or let me out of … of the cupboard."

"I know, child." He said, getting off the armchair and pulling the child's head close until the pale forehead rested against his stomach. "And I promise you that I will never do such a thing. Neither will I ever lock you up anywhere, nor will I ever be gone without first informing you. And surely I will not be gone overnight, nor without leaving behind food. You do know this, do you, Harry?"

"Yes." The boy said and he could feel him relaxing.

"Why don't you take a break and take a nap, Harry?" He asked. "You look tired and those two last lines, you easily can write them down this evening, you still have time and two lines are not much. Not to mention that, if this one is as good as was the rhyme you have written a few weeks ago, then I do not worry about anything anyway, child."

"I … I'd like … I'd like to finish this … finish this first." His son said, looking up at him with pleading eyes and even if he knew – the child meanwhile voiced what he felt he needed or needed to do, sometimes at least, but he also knew that if he now said a clear "no", then Harry would obey without even one single word of contradiction, would even most likely apologize for having asked in the first place.

"Alright, Harry." He said, keeping himself from giving away a frustrated sigh. "But I want you to go to bed early tonight." He said, piercing the child with his dark eyes to demand a clear answer. But it was unnecessary anyway, because the child always gave an answer, and so he did now, giving a small and shy smile, a nod of his head and a happy sounding "yes, sir, thank you sir" away.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He was sure meanwhile, that the wardens knew exactly what they were doing, he was sure because they looked strangely at them sometimes, and because they even made one or another comments towards the Dursleys sometimes.

They knew.

They were still careful though, knowing that if they began to get careless, then the wardens surely wouldn't ignore it anymore what they did. Not to mention that they could enjoy the Dursleys' screams during the night anyway, never mind if they visited their cell at a daily basis or not, the spell the Potter woman's ghost had cast over them made sure of that and they could listen to their whimpers and sobs and screams every night.

In that night, after the ghost had left, they had thought that maybe they should cast a spell at Dursley, at the fat whale, that had him being raped night for night too, but the moment Wilkes had lifted his wand he had thought better, had stopped the man.

And since that day, since November 14th, they had visited them every other night. Not all of them, but two of them, always in pairs, always careful to not being alone with the man in the cell – just in case, because they knew – Dursley was desperate, and a desperate man could achieve the unbelievable, and for entertainment of course.

In the beginning they had cast silencing spells over the two Dursleys, but after never one of the wardens came upon their screams of pain during the nights, those screams caused by the spell from the Potter woman, they had stopped casting those silencing spells, and again, never any of the wardens had come, since over a month, never any of the wardens had cared.

"Leave me alone!" Dursley shrieked the moment he entered the whale's cell. Well, ok, he had to admit that now he wronged the man, because Dursley surely wasn't a whale anymore, he had lost a considerate amount of weight since he was here in Azkaban, as had his wife who clearly suffered immensely of the hunger she felt, who clearly was a shadow of herself and not a healthy woman anymore, even if she got regular and enough food to keep her alive, she wouldn't die.

"Shut up, Dursley." He growled, waving his hand.

A moment later Dursley was naked, bits of skin hanging from his body where it before had been stretched by fat, not making the man less ugly, but he didn't care, he would have his pleasure anyway because he never had cared about beauty. Pain was his motive, pain was what got him to an orgasm, causing pain and causing fear, nothing else, and he knew that he did cause a lot of pain, taking the man ruthlessly, and a lot of fear, letting him know that it would happen again, and again, and again, and he also caused humiliation too, because when he left, he left the man laying naked, left the man to dress himself – what always took Dursley some time during which he was watched and laughed at by the other inmates.

"Leave me alone, please, leave me alone." The man started begging but he only sneered at him, already forcing him towards the bars of his cell and Jugson quickly tied the man's wrists and ankles to them. "Please, not again, not tonight, I beg you!"

"How often has your nephew begged you to stop?" He hissed into the man's ears while he took out his own member, giving it a few strokes before he brutally rammed it into the man's entrance, further hardened by the piercing screams. "How often have you ignored your nephew's pleas? How often have you even taken pleasure in your nephew's pleas? In his screams? In his pain? In his fear? I'm doing nothing to you what you have not done to an innocent child."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Harry put away the quill, taking a deep breath.

Finally he was finished and he slowly released his breath before he rubbed his fists over his eyes. Merlin, that really hadn't been easy. First he'd had too many words, and then he'd had to scratch some of the lines out, and he didn't like it, because he'd thought all of them important in one way or another. Not to mention that he wasn't too good at rhymes to begin with. And then he had drawn the picture and copied the text onto the parchment with it, having to write over the words two times because the writing was too fine on the black and white picture.

But now he was finished, and tomorrow he could hand it in and the entire racket would be over finally.

So, tomorrow and for the rest of the week his dad would be in the parent-teacher conferences, he'd known that they would come and he even had made a joke when he, Harry, hadn't gotten an invitation when the Professor had placed the parchments in front of all the other students during breakfast a week ago. During lunch his dad had crossed the Slytherin table on his way to the head table and had placed an invitation in front of him too.

For a moment he'd been startled, and he had racked his brain of what to do now, but then he had grinned at Draco, had taken the quill from his book bag, and he had made an X at "I am able to meet you at your date proposal". Later he had gone to the owlery and had called for Arturo, his dad's owl, and had asked him to bring the parchment to his father.

The owl had nibbled on his finger affectionately before taking off, and even after the owl had been gone he'd been standing there, looking down at his finger and somehow feeling sad, wondering what it would be like, if he had a pet too, if he had a pet he could run his hand through the feathers or the fur or whatever it would have, simply touching it, loving it, in a way he himself never had been loved before he had come here.

He was loved now, by his father, and somehow he wanted to give this love to – to someone, something, whatever, and not only to his father. He loved his dad, at least he thought that this was what he felt towards the man, but that wasn't the same he suddenly realized, remembering having asked the man how one could love differently, not too long ago, when they'd been at Prince Manor for the first time. He now felt this different kind of emotions.

Getting off his chair he remembered the fiasco with the bat in Herbaceous' shop. He really hadn't meant to startle his dad so much, and to startle Herbaceous too, and to make them worried, and all, but – those pictures of those spiders dying, of uncle Vernon and how he'd … it just had been too much.

No, he better never took a pet, it would be the best for the animal if it were not with him, he thought resolutely, standing in the doorway while watching his dad and Mr. Malfoy, sitting in the parlor, discussing one thing or another.

He wasn't sure about Mr. Malfoy.

The man was his dad's friend and he was kind, and he never made any quick movements while he was here, he never raised his voice and he often brought him a small pouch of sweets or a book. The man also was Draco's dad and his dad's attorney, but there was something, something that made him nervous.

Sometimes Mr. Malfoy just stood there, or sat there, watching him with unblinking pale eyes, thoughtfully, watching him so intensely he could feel it, inside, watched him so long that he grew restless and the man didn't say anything then.

But always shortly after that he brought him a book about something he feared, and he was sure that it wasn't coincidence.

Last time he had brought him a book about a boy around his age and that had lost his parents, that had grown up with a foster family but always had feared that he would be alone one day. The boy never had been alone and he had grown up happily in this family.

Of course he knew what Mr. Malfoy was doing, showing him that way that he too could grow up happily, if he only allowed it himself and his dad too, to grow up safely. But that didn't make it better, that the man always seemed to know what he needed, just by watching him with his pale eyes so long and intensely.

He knew that it wasn't legillimence, he knew that because he knew what legillimence felt like when his dad used it on him, even though his father never used it without asking him first, since he had tried doing this in the beginning, back then, in his office, when he had learned about his stupidity, that he couldn't talk and sign and write.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Snape." Mr. Malfoy said upon looking up and his father turned in his seat, waving him over.

"I see you finally have decided to place your quill aside, Harry." The man said. "Would you like a cup of hot chocolate?"

Nodding, he slowly approached the table, again feeling the attorney's long and hard gaze at him and he looked up into the man's face that was again thoughtful.

"Your father told me that you are partaking in the annual school competition." Mr. Malfoy said, his steely eyes never leaving him and he nearly shuddered.

"Yes, sir." He said, sitting down and watching his dad leaving for the kitchen to prepare a cup of hot chocolate for him.

"And?" Mr. Malfoy asked and he nearly frowned at the man, not really knowing what he wanted.

"Well, I … I have just … I have just … just …"

"Take a deep breath, Mr. Snape, and close your eyes." Mr. Malfoy said like his father always did. "You have enough time and you do not have to say everything within five seconds."

Doing as Mr. Malfoy had instructed he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He still could feel Mr. Malfoy's eyes on him, but he suddenly could feel something else too, could feel – that the man didn't mean harm, that he only was curious and that he … he could feel the wish to help.

But why?

And how could he feel that?

"I … I have just finished … just finished my work." He said, reopening his eyes and watching the man back, still wondering how it was that he could feel this, wondering why Mr. Malfoy would want to offer his help in the first place. Was that the reason he always brought him a book about that what his, Harry's, thoughts were occupied with most?

"Do not worry too much, Mr. Snape." Mr. Malfoy suddenly said and again he wondered why the man always called him Mr. Snape and never Harry. "In the end, everything will work out fine."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Draco had been over for dinner, and after the meal Mr. Malfoy had given both of them, Draco and him, a small pouch with sweets, causing him to smile. He knew that it wasn't much, never as much as Dudley always had gotten, not even as much as some other children got, he knew that, it only were a few candies and a lollipop or two, but he nevertheless was happy about it and he had thanked the man overenthusiastically before pulling the other boy with him to his room.

"Have you managed the sock?" Draco asked, laying with his upper body beneath his bed, his feet dangling midair, like his.

"No." He shook his head. "I … I get it back to red, but … but then the other … then the _other_ is red. Even if I … even if I sep-separate them, one … one always is red."

"He won't kill you." Draco chuckled and he sighed.  
"I know." He said.

"Why don't you just take one of the babbling candies and babble it out?" Draco suggested. "You'd annoy uncle Severus so much, he wouldn't have enough time to say much."

"He'd be just … just the more angry then." He said. "Later."

"I could ask my dad if he sent over a second pair of red socks." He said, shuddering at the thought of red socks to begin with.

"No." He quickly said. "No! Your … your dad … he … dunno …"

"He what?" Draco asked, looking at him strangely and he sighed again. He didn't want offending the other boy. He was his first friend after all, and he didn't want to lose him. _Absolutely_ not.

"Dunno … he … he's strange …" He carefully said.

"I know." Draco said, shrugging his shoulders. "But yours is not better, uncle Severus, the dark and cold dungeons vampire, the one teacher every student at Hogwarts fears, a man made of steel – and he's creating such a place beneath your bed? If _that's_ not strange."

"Know." He had to admit, unable to keep from chuckling now. "But your father's … your father's gaze, that's really … really scary. _He_ looks like a vampire, and … and he's so … so old fash- … old fashioned serious!"

"Old fashioned serious?" Draco asked, looking over at him. "Really, Harry, I hear this phrase for the first time! And if _yours_ were any better, _if_ someone is old fashioned, then it's uncle Severus, not to mention serious!"

"Maybe your dad … maybe your dad and mine are … are not so … not so different." He mused.

"Yes, maybe not." Draco mused. "Harry?" The boy then asked, sounding serious too and he looked over at his friend, startled, unsure if he had done something wrong. Maybe he _had_ offended the other boy with his words.

"Yes?" He asked, unsurely.

"Why have you shown me this place here?" Draco asked and he frowned. "Your hiding place beneath your bed I mean, it's your hiding place, and it's a very private place, so why?"

Frowning he shrugged his shoulders, taking two of the chocolate snowmen he still had left from St. Nicholas and reaching one at Draco.

"Dunno." He said, unwrapping the thing. "We're friends, aren't we?" He then said, sticking the chocolate snowmen into his mouth, nearly holding his breath because he was unsure of the other boy's answer.

"Yes, I guess we are." Draco said, unwrapping his chocolate snowman too. "Thanks."

For a moment there was silence between the boys, both of them being lost in their thoughts while at the same time Harry was keeping the chocolate in his mouth, not chewing it like Draco did, but simply having it melting in his mouth, his eyes closed and his head laying on the pillow beneath the bed, savoring the taste of the chocolate, trying to keep the melting as slow as possible, trying to enjoy the chocolate as long as possible.

Draco on the other hand didn't know how he should take it, that Harry had showed him this place.

He had a hiding place too, in the cupboard in his room at Malfoy Manor, but he better didn't mention _this_ to the other boy. He didn't know all of what happened to the smaller boy, but he knew that Harry's aunt and uncle had kept him in a cupboard for _years_, he read the paper after all.

But he wasn't sure if he would show Harry, even if the other boy hadn't had bad memories of cupboards. Why would Harry show him this place that was like a safe house? No one would give away the location of their safe house, it didn't make any sense, even if they were friends.

Or maybe being a friend was more than – just being an alley?

He felt that there was more than Harry just being an alley, than Harry just being a house mate – but, what had the other boy asked once? What is love? How could one know that it was love? Could one see love? Or touch it? He didn't know, but he guessed that it was the same with friendship, and he knew that he liked the smaller boy, that he _really_ liked him, that he felt protective over him.

Neither of the two children noticed the two adults, standing in the doorway and watching two sets of feet emerging from beneath the bed, dangling midair.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"You think they're devouring all their sweets, my dear Severus?" Lucius softly asked, amused at the sight that greeted him, pleased at the fact that Draco had someone who apparently felt them being friends enough to show him his hiding place, something he knew that was very special.

"No, I doubt this." Severus answered and he looked over at the dark man. To his knowledge the man's son had not had any sweets – let alone enough food to begin with – while living with his relatives, and so it would be only logically if he now killed off any sweets before anyone could take them away. "Harry is saving all his sweets down there, rarely eating one of them but keeping them as a – let me name it – _'emergency ration'_. He rather is laying down there and watching them, simply content with the fact that _he_ has them to begin with. No, I rather think they are trying to find a solution to Harry's de-colored socks."

"Ah." He said, his eyebrow lifted at the Potions Master.

He didn't question the comment, knowing that Severus would explain it himself if he felt the need to.

Severus Snape was a strange man, but if there was someone who knew that strange man, then it was him.

He had met the Slytherin when he'd been in his last year, and he immediately had liked the shy and quiet boy, small and delicately built even for a firsty. He also immediately had seen the signs of abuse, he was a Slytherin after all, of course he had seen the signs and during his seventh year at Hogwarts he had started protecting this particular boy. After that he had started business studies with Professor Vector and an apprenticeship with Professor Merrythought in DADA for getting his mastery in this area. So he had stayed at Hogwarts until Severus, who had been a rather clingy child, had finished his OWLs.

However, he had watched him changing from a timid and shy child that ran after him at every turn he took, that always watched him with his large black eyes and that gave him rare and small smiles sometimes, in to a hard and tough man that never smiled at all, that never showed any emotion and that stood tall and proud.

Later that man had became even cold and harsh after Lily had left him for Potter and he had to admit, he always had worried about the man that had taken unnecessary risks with the Dark Lord, always challenging the Dark Lord, going against him behind his back in helping the Dark Lord's prisoners to either escape or a quick death. A man that hadn't cared about his own life and sometimes he had been sure that Severus even asked for death to find him.

Their friendship had lost closeness over the years, when Severus had become even more distant after Lily's death, when the man had gotten bitter and acerbic, uncaring even to his friends. Severus hadn't visited him anymore and rarely had he accepted his, Lucius', visit at Prince Manor or his quarters here at Hogwarts. He had become what he liked to name a dead man walking – visibly alive, but not being alive.

And then this child had come into his life.

He hadn't seen Severus so alive since many years, so alive as he was now, now since this child was here, since his son was here, and it was clear, this child had managed what no one other had, namely drawing the man back to life. Severus Snape was back to breathing, to feeling and to living – and for that alone he thanked the child.

"Those blasted red socks for the Christmas play." Severus softly growled and he looked over at the man, chuckling. It was strange, hearing the man talking about the Christmas play with the knowledge that his son would partake in it instead of just being a teacher. "Harry has tried to de-color his socks in transfiguration, into green, but managed one sock only and now he cannot get the green one back to red without the red one becoming green. I think, it just has to be or he would manage. Sometimes magic goes strange ways to fulfill its own will."

Well, it also was strange watching this particular man, the spy, a man that had lived a life on a tightrope, risking death with every breath he took, with every day while living as a death eater, a man that was cold and uncaring enough to be hated by hundreds, thousands of witches and wizards all around Great Britain, that was known for his cruelly, it was strange watching this particular man handling a child, an eleven year old child like Harry, a child so fragile and ill still, scared, frightened, unsure with every turn he took, it was strange watching him caring for _this_ child, dressing him, correcting his speech and getting him to bed.

The soft spot of Severus Snape.

"So why does he still try coloring them back to red?" He asked, not really understanding. If this time magic wanted those socks green and red, then the boy wouldn't manage anyway and it only would cost him strength he didn't have to waste to begin with. Not to mention that he liked the thought of a red and a green sock, those two red socks had been a thorn in his side too anyway and he hadn't understood why the first year Slytherins had to wear them at the play together with the Gryffindors. Why not having those lions wearing green socks together with the Slytherins?

"Because he doesn't know." The Potions Master smirked at him and he frowned.

"He doesn't know – what?" He asked, not really able to follow the blasted man.

"That I know about the red and the green sock." Severus answered, still smirking. "Lupin forewarned me about the entire situation, but I have not addressed Harry with it."

"Don't you think that the boy is scared enough?" He asked, not really understanding what Severus was thinking. He had watched the child and there were so many insecurities. Today he had sensed dying animals and yet the wish to have a pet, to love something that was not his father, to hold something when he wasn't held.

"Of course he is." The man answered, seriously. "But he also has to learn addressing me with things that happened. He has to learn to trust me with such things, Lucius, and even if he claims his trust, he does not."

"Didn't you say that it got better?" He asked.

"It _did_ get better." Severus answered with a sigh clearly born of frustration. "But that does not mean that he trusts me yet. I test him sometimes, and his reactions are a clear proof, while he doesn't fear me as much as he has in the beginning, he still _does_ fear me in the first place, and he still does not trust me. He is censoring himself and he gives the answer he thinks I wish to hear from him instead of the truth, instead of what he really fears still. If tomorrow I forgot providing him with dinner, he rather would go to bed hungry than asking for any food and if tomorrow I would tell him to go into his cupboard, he would do it without even thinking of disobedience. I do not call this trust, Lucius."

"I see." He mused.

He hadn't known that it still was that bad.

If he would send Draco to bed without food, then the boy would at least complain, and rightfully so, and if he told his son to go into his cupboard, then the boy surely would protest, even if he used his cupboard as some kind of hiding place.

Not that Draco had ever told him, but he knew it anyway.

"And still there are new horrors which I learn about every other week." The man growled and he knew that Severus thought of his meeting with the oculist. "I think that we have reached a base where we could start working on Harry's confidence and on his strength, and then there is a new horror revealed that sets him back for weeks, if not months."

"And yet, those setbacks, they are not as prolonged as they have been in the beginning." He said, smiling at his old friend.

"No." Severus answered, giving away a sad sigh anyway. "They are not."

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_A competition and a school play_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …

**House Cup:**

At the present time it looks like this:

360 Points - Slytherin

289 Points - Gryffindor

287 Points - Ravenclaw

161 Points - Hufflepuff


	70. the breaking wall

**Title:**

Tears falling in darkness – year one

**Author:**

evil minded

**Timeframe:**

First year at Hogwarts

**Summary:**

AU / After ten long and miserable years with the Dursleys Harry finally finds his freedom and a home – in the house of Slytherin. Will he find a family as well? Severus has lost something ten long and miserable years ago. Will he find it again now?

**Disclaimer: **

Well … I do not own Harry Potter, nor Hogwarts, his friends or his belongings … J. K. Rowling owns them all … I just borrow them a bit …

Uhm … and well … sorry for the confusion I create at Hogwarts … I am sure I can straighten it after I am done with this … I at least promise to try …

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes:**

at first I wish to say thanks for the received comments from the chapters before … thank you … and yes … I would be glad to receive more responses … and then I'd like to say – sorry for any mistakes in the story as English is not my language by birth … you however may keep them, the mistakes I mean, all of them …

**Added author's note: **

I do know that in Britain something like a boot placed outside the door on St. Nicholas' Day is not common, but I decided to use this nevertheless because today – the day I have written this particular chapter – is December, 6th – and therefore St. Nicholas' Day and my children have put their boots in front of the door. I have filled them during the night, like always and it was as much fun for me doing this as was for the children to get their boots in the morning. I do hope that you won't kill me for this …

**Warning:**

Chapter contains references to child abuse.

Child abuse is a really, really serious and evil thing, and whenever you meet someone, child or adult, who shows any signs – whichever - of once being abused, then try to help … there are too much humans in our world who are or had been mistreated.

what does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me - I am …

* * *

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**Previously in Tears falling in darkness**

_"I see." He mused. _

_He hadn't known that it still was that bad._

_If he would send Draco to bed without food, then the boy would at least complain, and rightfully so, and if he told his son to go into his cupboard, then the boy surely would protest, even if he used his cupboard as some kind of hiding place. _

_Not that Draco had ever told him, but he knew it anyway. _

_"And still there are new horrors which I learn about every other week." The man growled and he knew that Severus thought of his meeting with the oculist. "I think that we have reached a base where we could start working on Harry's confidence and on his strength, and then there is a new horror revealed that sets him back for weeks, if not months."_

_"And yet, those setbacks, they are not as prolonged as they have been in the beginning." He said, smiling at his old friend. _

_"No." Severus answered, giving away a sad sigh anyway. "They are not." _

**Tears falling in darkness**

**Chapter seventy**

**The breaking wall**

"I think it would benefit Theodore if he partook in this summer project, Thaddeus." He said, warily, knowing that he had to be careful with the man.

"That would be six weeks during which the boy is not home, Severus." Thaddeus Nott growled. "And he isn't home at Christmas too. My wife will kill me, she isn't too pleased about the boy staying here to begin with."

"You do realize that the Dark Lord will need a new Potions Master one day, Thaddeus, I won't be there forever." He calmly said. "And Theodore has the required talent for that position that would place him in a very high rank amongst the Death Eaters."

The man looked at him thoughtfully, his small eyes narrowed to even smaller slits while watching him and he even could see the wheels turning in the man's head. He knew that he had found the trigger. He, Severus, he had been the Dark Lord's second right hand man back then, when the bastard had been alive still, and he knew that there had been many Death Eaters who had envied him for his position, Nott Senior included. And now, having given the man ideas, Nott could already see his son in his, Severus', position.

"Are you sure that the Dark Lord would appraise him as much as he has you, Severus?" Nott asked, his eyes still narrowed at him.

"If I trained the boy for this particular position, then yes." He calmly answered. "In ten years I am approaching age fifty, Thaddeus, and you know that being a Death Eater requires talents and fitness that diminishes with that age slowly but surely and the high-rank Death Eaters have to take a few steps back because they only would jeopardize one or another mission."

"Fifty!" The man huffed. "You're far from being fourty, Snape!" But then the man narrowed his eyes at him. "What would be _your_ gain out of this, Severus?" Nott asked. Of course he would ask this question, Nott was a long-time Death Eater, and a confident one. He did nothing without having a gain and he thought anyone would do the same.

"Theodore's protection." He smirked. "If I help Theodore on his way to the Dark Lord's right hand man, then I expect Theodore to keep me his own right hand man. It is a bond similar to an apprenticeship bond."

"It could work." Nott said and he was glad that he was always so indifferent, able keeping his emotions out of his face or he would have sneered in disgust at the man who was planning out his son's life as a Death Eater.

"Of course it could work." He huffed. "It has worked in the past. For centuries such pacts have been made. This has been the warrantor for the survival of the human race after all, Thaddeus. Your son has the chance for a high position directly beside the Dark Lord, you should consider well what you wish for your son's future, but for this position he will have to start learning right now. He has talent, Thaddeus, but talent will not be enough for becoming a Potions Master."

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Well, in the end Thaddeus Nott had agreed and Theodore would stay at Hogwarts during the summer holidays to help Pomona and Poppy with their plants, potions and healing equipment.

Next had been Gregory's parents and then Vincent's mother, followed by an uncle of Daphne Greengrass. Lucius had been one of the first parents he'd had over in his office, thus making sure that he still had all his senses collected. The more parents he had met, the more he had become impatient and he immensely had enjoyed the evening hours when he could dine with Harry, talk to the boy a bit before bed time, knowing that the next day it would start anew, first classes full of idiot dunderheads that did their best to explode his classroom and then idiot parents that did their best in driving him up the walls.

Well, the most easy parent-teacher conversation he'd had so far, had been with Mr. Zabini visiting him this evening, the man being interested in the curriculum and simply being content with his son behaving and with his son feeling well at Hogwarts. The man had told him a few things about Blaise's childhood and his own role in the boy's life.

**Flashback**

_"It is not my place to ask, Mr. Zabini, but I wondered if Blaise's mother would visit too." He carefully said. He knew well the reputation of Mrs. Zabini, Mr. Zabini being her eighth husband so far as all her past seven husbands had died a mysterious death, leaving her a lot of gold. _

_"I fear not." The man said. "Blaise's mother has already tired off my presence, I fear, and already I have found poison in my vespertine glass of red wine."_

_"I see." He seriously said. "So, your next move?"_

_"I have already given a report to the auror headquarters and I already have requested sole guardianship over Blaise too." Mr. Zabini answered. "I think that the boy has had enough different step fathers so far and I cannot imagine that having eight more until he has graduated will do him any good. Not to mention that his mother does not care anyway. She wasn't even present for the first hearing. I fear that already another wealthy man is more important to her and honestly, Professor Snape, I even think she is glad for that. If she doesn't have to think of her son or care for him, she will have more time for her – love affairs."_

_"How does Blaise see the situation?" He asked and the man frowned._

_"To my knowledge he is content with the solution so far, but I fear for a more clarified answer you will have to ask him personally, professor." He then said. "I am his step-father only and even though I think that he is alright with this, seeing that he addressed me with any problems rather than his mother, I cannot see what is going through his mind or heart."_

**End flashback**

Well, except for that particular information, an information that was never a pleasant one, it had been an easy visit. Especially compared to some other's he'd had. Another pleasant visit had been Harry's.

Of course he knew how much he had startled the boy with the invitation placed in front of him at the Slytherin table and he had smirked on his way over to the head table, had even been able to feel the boy's startled green eyes on his back. But then the boy had taken out his quill, had X-ed something on the lower part of the parchment, and back then he already had been sure that it was the confirmation of the date proposal.

Well, he had placed the date so that Harry would have no classes after all, he knew that he'd be able to visit him if he so wished.

And honestly, as unsure as he had been at first, in one point the boy had been correct – he'd been the only one without an invitation just because his parent already was on stuff. _And_ – he thought it funny, startling the boy like this. Not to mention that he would enjoy his son's visit during a time when he had to deal with a bunch of idiot parents that didn't care the way they should. And Harry too would be very happy that he had a few minutes with him during those three days that would be strenuous for not only him, Severus, but for Harry too.

Well, after lunch Harry had hurried out of the great hall and half an hour later he'd had the boy's reply, brought to him by Arturo, who had nibbled at his hand.

He'd had a few minutes between Cormet's father and Harry, and he had used this time to ask Zilly to bring hot chocolate for Harry and a cup of coffee for himself.

The conversation with Mr. Anshan had been unpleasant, but easy.

The man was no Death Eater and he surely didn't abuse his son. It was – _just_ – neglect. Not in the way so many of his other students were, Harry included until he had come to Hogwarts, but the man clearly didn't care, the boy's drug escapades clear proof to that. Cormet never had been a real junkie, unable to refrain from doing those drugs, no – it had been a clear cry for help, a cry for attention.

But the only one who had heard, had been him, the boy's teacher, not his father who should have been there. Because that man had simply not cared and he was sure that the only reason for the man's presence now had been his clear mentioning of a stipend.

Well, he had asked Minerva for that stipend when Cormet had visited him during the year, nearly crying and telling him that his father wouldn't pay for the next school year, what would leave the boy without his NEWTs. Not to mention that the boy had already known that – without an exam and without a job, without anyone who cared, he easily could have fallen back into his old circle of _'friends'_.

But well, Minerva had sanctioned the stipend and so the visit had been – unpleasant, but easy. And therefore he had been rather relaxed during Harry's visit, something he had hoped for.

**Flashback**

_"Dad?"_

_The soft and questioning voice of his son got him out of his thoughts and looking up he couldn't help smiling at seeing the first really welcomed face since breakfast this morning. _

_"Do come in, you little imp." He growled good-natured. "Or do you expect me to drink your hot chocolate?"_

_The small smile that spread over the pale face for a moment was a clear sign of how happy the boy was upon seeing him, something he was not really used to and it meant a lot to him, it made him forget the past two days and it would make the next few hours so much easier, he knew. _

_"That … that would be … would be funny." The boy said, green eyes watching him with a mixture of amusement and wariness, like always, and again he doubted that this wariness would ever really vanish. _

_"Funny!" He huffed, but then he got off the chair behind his desk and led the boy to the more comfortable sofa that stood in one corner in his office. "Come here, child. How was your day so far?" He asked. _

**End flashback**

Well, in the end they had been sitting at the sofa, he, Severus, leaning against the armrest with one leg laying on the seat, his cup of coffee in one hand and Harry leaning with his back against his chest, his cup of hot chocolate in both his hands, with his head leaning at his shoulder and he had been running his free hand through the child's strands of black hair. That had been his third visit this afternoon, after Anotnin's mother and after Cormet's father.

After that short break Mrs. Parkinson had been over and then Nott Senior, his so far most difficult visit and he had known that he had to give Nott something really special – namely his, Severus' position in the Dark Lord's ranks one day. And Nott had accepted.

And now he simply felt tired and worn out, but it was over, three days of teacher-parent conferences, but it was over finally.

Leaving everything in his office he went towards his private quarters. He would have a nice dinner with Harry, and then he would get comfortable at the sofa with the boy before having an early bed time for both of them.

On Saturday he would take Harry to Diagon Alley for some last Christmas shopping, and soon they would be at Prince Manor for nearly four weeks, in ten days they would leave Hogwarts.

There were few Slytherins staying at Hogwarts this year, Theodore, Adrian, and Marcus only, and he already had spoken with Harry. They would invite the three boys over to Prince Manor for a few days during Christmas itself. On New Year's Eve they would visit Hogwarts to welcome the new years with them and the other teachers and students present at the castle during the holidays.

Opening the door to his private quarters he frowned upon seeing Minerva pacing his parlor.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

"Severus!" The blasted woman called out, clearly upset and he inwardly sighed, wondering what could have happened to Harry this time, during the short time between his visit and now, only two hours later.

"What happened, Minerva?" He asked, nearly growled, his worry already at the highest point possible and he glanced into the room that was his son's.

"Thank Merlin, you're here, Severus!" The woman said without answering his question. "I really didn't know what to do anymore and I just was about to call over Poppy, even though I know how much he fears her still and …"

"Minerva!" He growled, softly enough so that Harry in his room wouldn't hear his annoyance but forceful enough so that Minerva knew – he meant it, he wanted an answer.

"Oh, Severus!" The woman sighed. "Harry was over to the great hall in the afternoon, for the announcement of the winner from the annual school competition." The blasted woman finally said and he groaned in frustration. That blasted school competition! The dead line had been on Tuesday and the announcement of the winner had been today! How could he have forgotten about this! He had planned to be present during the announcement, just in case.

"Everything seemed fine, Harry was together with Draco and Theodore." Minerva continued still sounding upset. "Until I called out Harry's name for being the winner of the competition. At first nothing happened, and I already got worried, he just sat there, staring at me as if he were in shock, but then, from one moment to the other, I swear Severus, never before have I seen him moving so fast when he ran from the great hall!"

"I see." He said, taking a deep breath. "If you please excuse me, Minerva." The Potions Master then added, understanding what had happened.

Of course – Harry had won the competition and while he had never been the centre of any attention before, while he never had been the winner of _anything_, never had anyone acknowledging him doing something well, while he never had been praised for anything, always only scolded if he were lucky and locked away or beaten even, even if he had done something well – of course the child had not known how to handle the situation, and was now – most likely – hiding himself away beneath his bed.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself he entered the room that belonged to his son, went straight to the child's bed and sat into the armchair beside it.

"Why don't you come forth from that bed of yours so that we can have dinner, Harry?" He asked, slightly leaning forwards, leaning his elbows on his thighs. "Zilly has promised spinach and mashed potatoes, and we always cold add some of the sausages Amelie gave us on our way last time we visited Herbaceous' shop."

"Don' … don' wanna no … don' wanna no spinach …" Came the boy's soft answer from beneath the bed.

"You do realize that this was a double negation, Harry?" He asked, frowning. If the boy refused spinach – that meant it was serious business. "And a double negation is an affirmation."

"Don' … don' care." Came from beneath the bed and his frown deepened.

The boy never would give such an answer, absolutely never.

"What is wrong, Harry?" He asked, keeping his voice calm but strict, knowing that something was very wrong and that he should find a solution, and possibly before the boy worked himself up to unknown highs over the next few days.

There wasn't an answer this time but he could hear the boy moving below the bed and he sighed – most likely Harry had just moved over into the corner, away from the edge of the bed and out of his reach.

He knew that he easily could call the boy forth from beneath the bed if he ordered him to, Harry would obey. But Harry was beneath his bed in the first place, a place that was his safe haven and he wasn't sure if he should take this place from the boy. On the other hand – at least _he_ should be able getting the child from beneath his bed, and if it were just for the sake of an emergency.

But this here was no emergency.

Summoning the potions journal – the one from the last month which he still had not read yet, he leaned back in the armchair, reading, and simply waiting.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Peering from beneath the bed he could see the Professor's feet and with a sigh he pondered his possibilities.

He could stay down here for some time, he still had his sweets after all and he still had a few cookies and a piece of bread down here either. And he had eaten very much lately too, so he would survive for a long time down here.

But on the other hand, he knew that it was silly.

He knew that the Professor wouldn't beat him just because he had done better than Dudley. He didn't even know if Dudley had partaken in the competition to begin with! He didn't know …

The Professor would not beat him, he knew it, but staying down here, stubbornly, that would make him angry, because the man was sitting there, and he knew that he wouldn't leave anytime soon, at least not before he came forth.

It was just one of those things the man did, to show him that he was there, and that he – he didn't know …

But if he came forth now and the Professor was angry at him because he had been so stubborn, then surely he would be in really, really big trouble, maybe more than he could handle and …

And how could he come forth now anyway? How could he …

For a moment he looked under the pillow the Professor had placed down there, beneath the bed, and he sighed with relief at the piece of dried bread and the cookies he had hidden there over the past few weeks. It was there still, whatever would happen, or could happen, he still had something to eat and he wouldn't …

But it had been the Professor, who had placed the pillow down there to begin with, and the mattress, and the blanket too.

And he knew – if the Professor had really wanted to force him out from under the bed, then he easily could have done so, but he hadn't. He hadn't and that surely had to count for something? And now the Professor was sitting there since only Merlin knew how many hours! And that surely was a sign that he cared?

It surely wasn't fair of him that he let the Professor sitting there and waiting until he came forth, and just because he was a coward that feared his rightful punishment.

Slowly he inched a bit closer to the edge of the bed, prepared to meet the angry eyes of the older wizard.

But the only thing added to the man's feet he now could see were his legs.

"Sir?" He hesitantly asked, carefully, not sure if it was the right thing to do, not sure if …

"Yes, Harry?" The man asked and he hitched a breath.

The Professor didn't _sound_ angry.

And the Professor still called him _Harry_, not Mr. Snape or even Potter, or boy, or freak, or … he called him Harry still.

And there was no violent movement that indicated that he would pull him forth now, now that he was closer to the edge of his hiding place.

"I … I'm … I'm sor-sorry." He said, just in case.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He could hear the boy shifting beneath the bed and he nearly held his breath for a moment, hoping that Harry would make a move to come out. He didn't want to take his son from beneath the bed by force, but he neither would have the boy missing a meal and it was already late for dinner to begin with.

"Sir?" Came the boy's hesitant question a few moments later and for a moment he actually could bathe in the feeling of being proud at the boy for making that first move.

"Yes, Harry?" He asked and he could hear the boy down there hitching a breath.

Merlin, was he that scared that he thought him, Severus, using his given name, being something so valuable?

Of course the child was. And of course the child thought so.

It was one of those moments when he was reminded of how difficult the child still was, of how very damaged he still was, and of how much time they would still need. And yet, he was the child, and here he was able to make a first move.

"I … I'm … I'm sor-sorry." The boy said and he nearly sighed. Of course Harry would apologize.

"There is no need to apologize, child." He said. "You have done nothing wrong. You have done well in a competition, you have been startled upon Minerva's announcement of your winning, you have gone to your hiding place, but none of these things had been wrong, Harry. Are you ready to come out for dinner now?" He asked when there was no answer.

A moment later another shift beneath the bed told him that – yes, the boy would come forth, even if slowly, but without him having to use an order.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

He had watched the boy close during dinner, Harry having been frightened and unsure at first, but the child had calmed somewhat while they had been sitting at the table and he thought that he could notice a pattern.

Whenever there was something new to Harry, then he easily got upset, scared, unsure, and sometimes even into a panic attack. But the moment regularity was back, a stable order of events and occurrences, of things that were well known to the child, which he had gotten used to over the time, then he got calm again, sometimes comfortable, sometimes not comfortable, but calm.

He knew that in the beginning Harry had been scared – _very_ scared – of the physical exercises, _really_ scared, but even if he was not comfortable with them, he had gotten used to them and he knew what to expect during them, and so he was calm while doing them with him. It was different with new situations, like being praised. The child still didn't know what could happen out of it, still didn't know how to deal with it, and so a panic was preassigned.

"So, care to show me this blasted rhyme of yours that was the cause of you being so very upset this evening, Harry?" He asked, not willing to let the subject go without showing Harry that – never mind what he thought or feared – he knew, he cared and he wouldn't hurt him. But neither would he let a subject just go.

Well, the boy had other plans, as he was shaking his head, quickly and with large eyes.

"You have won this competition, Harry." He said, calmly while he leaned back in his seat, taking the cup with the hot tea. "For what I am very proud of you, by the way, And that means that your work will be printed not only in the school news, but it also will be sent to the ministry where it can partake in the competition with other schools – if you so wish."

Well, the startled and wide eyed headshake of the boy was information enough – the boy didn't wish so.

"You do not have to, child, but you could, it is your decision." He said. "Not to mention that there will be a prize for the winner."

"Don' … don' care." The boy murmured and it was clear that he wouldn't send his work to the ministry, never mind what.

"Will you show me anyway?" He asked, but there wasn't an answer except of his son shrugging his shoulders.

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

Well, that had been during dinner, and now Harry had prepared for bed. The child had taken a bath, like he did every evening, enjoying the warm water, enjoying being _allowed_ to have a bath even, and then he had slipped into his pyjamas and had brushed his teeth. He had done their daily exercises and then he had massaged the boy's back, shoulders and limbs, like every evening before he had covered the small form with first the thin and woolen blanket and then with the thick and heavy eiderdown.

He had exchanged Harry's blanket weeks ago, when the weather had started becoming cold and uncomfortable. They were living in the dungeons after all and even if he had a nearly constant fire running in Harry's room, the boy was so easily freezing, so small and thin and fragile still, having absolutely no meat on his bones that would keep him warm, and he surely would not take any risks with that particular child.

However, just a few minutes later the boy had run from his room, a folded piece of parchment in his hand and without a word, without even looking at him, he had dashed through the parlor, to the coffee table and had placed the parchment there, in front of him, already turning and dashing back into his room before he, Severus, could have said a word.

He had been sitting there for a few moments, barely able to move and he had blinked at the parchment in near shock knowing what it was about, but then he had gotten off the armchair and over to his son's room, looking inside. The boy had been laying in his bed, the heavy blanket drawn over his head and the entire form hidden away.

He had approached the bed, had sat down onto the edge of the mattress and gently he had pulled the blanket away from what he thought could be his son's face. A moment later wide green eyes had looked up at him, unsurely, and whispering a soft "just sleep, child" he had run his fingers over the pale face and through the black hair.

And now he was sitting here, not sure if he should huff at the idiot child's fears or if he should smirk at the bravery he had shown in dashing through the room and giving him the parchment where he had written down the rhyme for that blasted competition.

Shaking his head he opened the piece of parchment and then started reading.

**breaking wall **

you can build – 'round yourself – the largest wall  
use for this the best and safest findable stone  
but whatever you do – one day it will fall  
and mostly this will happen, while you're alone

whatever future with your hands you have made  
those walls are just safe while they're close  
and I assure you, you cannot run from your fate  
nor can the water, crushing at the coast

thousand books you can open now, while reading – unlearned  
through wasted lands you can go, searching now – untaught  
down new roads, paths no one ever walked you can go – unturned  
whilst memories you search in your mind are fading – unthought

something somehow reminds you, of something you left behind  
not within your walls nor now outside you really feel free  
present memories – ignored – and no comfort you can find  
and I ? I just can assure you, you will exactly feel like me

whatever future – and what fear – you now will face  
without your safe walls which crumbled, you'll be alone  
you will learn, there is nothing, not one single place  
not one time, nor one spot, where you'll feel like home

maybe once you will find someone, you will find a friend  
but in your constant fear, you will not see it in his eyes  
you will not believe, and you will not trust, until the end  
the comfort he would be willing to give, you will not recognize

how often you search – of rejection and disdain you search a trace  
sitting beside, just searching, over and over, while waiting still  
and you go on searching – for some of those signs in his face  
but you cannot see the freedom he would give – and you never will

but even if – the first time it is you begin to see some lights  
and you can feel it within yourself – whatever you have seen of pain  
and you now know – within yourself – you're tired to all the fights  
and you now know – you are tired – you are tired of all the slain

all 'round you is now – in this moment – just dark and still  
you do not even know what now to do, while sitting there  
and you feel – the first time you feel – you have a free will  
which choice to take – and the only thing you feel is despair

for without any sureness you take your choice  
even if you know it may be one out of your fear  
but you do not listen to this silent voice  
you just know, you cannot destroy someone near

but without someone – standing at your side  
you again will be – wherever you stand – alone  
and without someone – you just have to go on and fight  
and you know – with your sword in hand you'll be gone

one life  
one stranger  
one friend  
one choice  
exiled – by yourself

break … ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ … line

* * *

**To be continued**

**Next time in Tears falling in darkness**

_A school play and some last preparations for the Christmas holidays_

**Added author's note**

thank you for reading - and yes, I would appreciate it if you took the time to review this chapter too … thank you …

**House Cup:**

At the present time it looks like this:

365 Points - Slytherin

312 Points - Ravenclaw

300 Points - Gryffindor

162 Points - Hufflepuff

* * *

**September 13th, 2013**

**Dear readers,**

just wish to inform you about another story – "… and sit a while with me …" – which will shortly start on the Profile of mrs. trabi here on fanfiction.

you will find some known persons in this story, and you will find one or another known incident in the story because the author of the story is me, even though I am posting this story not on my own profile but on my daughter's, and for several reasons so – one of it being because it's a rather unique story compared to my others.

more details you will learn while visiting mrs. trabi's profile:

www fanfiction net /u/2473886/mrs-trabi


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